


Let the Good Times Roll

by concupiscence66



Category: The Mighty Boosh (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-18
Updated: 2016-01-26
Packaged: 2018-01-25 14:58:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 27,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1652762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/concupiscence66/pseuds/concupiscence66
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Old Gregg enlists the help of his father to lure Howard Moon to New Orleans and his new home, the Black Swamp.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Hitcher

**Author's Note:**

> This is an epic, angsty and possibly very triggery piece. Rape and non-consensual sex are explored from violent attacks to manipulation and how a victim is re-victimized by stereotypes and assumptions. There's also loss and child neglect and mental illness. While it is ultimately a very positive story about survival, it is not for everybody!

He's a cockney nutjob, yes. He's a monster and he'll stab you up as soon as look at ya, but he ain't all bad. Did he rape a porpoise? Yes. He freely admits it. He's not proud, the porpoise was a bit of a slag, but a man has needs.

Go ahead, call him a baddie. Say he ain't got no right living on this earth, staining the soil with his potent cockney urine. He won't argue. Just don't call 'im a bad father. When that porpoise turned up to be up the duff, the Hitcher took responsibility. He looked at that disgusting man fish with a mangina and said, "It's the son I never wanted and the daughter I would have drowned at birth, except she has gills. Oh, I'll raise him up right. He'll be a better man than I and a better woman than I'll ever have." Then he got bored and dumped his only son/daughter in Black Lake. He didn't neglect his spawn. No, never let it be said that Old Greggory went without Bailey's or watercolors. When Gregg complained of being lonely, The Hitcher brought him Rick James. Too bad Rick James scared the little merman with his bizarre sexual proclivities and penchant for "love games.”  Old Gregg set Rick James free and tried to find his own friends. Those friends are now mounted on the wall of his murky cave. Luckily, the Funk showed up and Old Gregg was happy for a time.

Then he met Howard Moon. The Northerner stole Gregg's heart and the Funk, leaving Gregg more alone and more insane than ever.

And that's saying something.

Old Gregg called to his old man and said, "Please, Dad, please help me find my fuzzy little man peach. I don't want to be alone. Old Gregg is lonely."

The Hitcher looked at his boy, his hideous and ungodly spawn with his sad blue eyes and did what he knew he had to do. He reached out to stab his son/daughter in the gut.

It's a proud moment in a father's life when his son turns a knife on him. Before the Hitcher even got close, Old Gregg had slashed his wrist and was threatening to use his old dad's intestines to decorate his cave.

"I'm Old Gregg and I'm lonely! Find me Howard Moon and bring him to me. I want to feel his strong arms around me. I want him to take my dainty hand in marriage. I want to bake my famous crumble and hold him until he gets old and dies. Then I'll snuggle his desiccated corpse."

"Howard Moon! I know the bloke! I have generously opted not to rape him on several occasions although he obviously deserves a raping. You don't wear a mustache if you _don't_ want to be raped," the Hitcher exclaimed, trying to hold his guts inside his skin. Gregg had slashed him up a treat. Like father like fishy bastard.

"I love him. I need him. I'm Old Gregg."

"Oh, you are a crazy son of a bitch and I love you. Let me have me intestines and I'll be on my way to bring you your true love. One Howard Moon, coming up."

 


	2. Chapter 2

Howard did a double take when he saw Vince with a head of shiny golden hair.

"You've stopped dying your hair?" Howard asked in surprise.

"This ain't my real color! My real color is well mousey. I looked like a golden retriever after a mud bath."

"I always thought you looked nice with yellow hair," observed Howard, "like a dandelion."

"That's not a good look, is it, Howard? Not much call for dandelion people at the clubs. No one wants a weed," Vince explained, "P. Diddy don't want to be seen with crabgrass, does he?" 

"Then why are you dyeing yourhair yellow if you don't want to look like a dandelion?"

"I ain't finished yet, am I? I still got to add the green and purple highlights."

Howard tried to imagine what Vince intended to do. Howard prided himself on his quick and virile mind but he was baffled as to how Vince thought purple and green highlights would look good. Howard had known Vince as a scrawny, knock-kneed little boy wearing rock shirts long enough to be dresses. No matter how Vince tried to transform himself, the same guileless blue eyes dominated his noisy face. All the accessories were superfluous. How could anyone look at anything but those bush baby eyes?

"For Mardi Gras! They're the official colors. I'm going to look amazin'! It'll be genius. I'll be the king of New Orleans!"

"New Orleans is the cradle of jazz. We're going to walk the streets whereLouis Armstrong was raised, where King Oliver played the houses of ill repute. We'll be able to ride the riverboats that served as floating conservatories for some of the greatest jazz musicians who ever lived..."

"And they got swamp tours where you can hold a baby alligator!" Vince added with an enthusiastic clap of his hands. "And I'm having' my tits out for anyone who asks until I can make a whole outfit of beads. Imagine that!"

Howard shook his head as his now blond friend pulled up his purple blouse to flash his nipples at an imaginary man on an imaginary balcony.

"Stop fussing with Stationery Village and help me with my hair," Vince implored, his big blue eyes looking ethereal under his golden fringe.

Howard pulled off the white latex gloves that he wore to dust StationeryVillage, and put on the purple latex gloves he wore to help Vince dyehis hair.

xxx

Vince stroked the baby alligator between its eyes. He couldn't understand the alligators at all. Their accents were as bad as the humans’. After getting tutored in school by Howard Moon, Vince thought he'd never have trouble understanding anyone ever again. If he could understand Howard's Northern accent well enough to learn algebra, he should be able to understand anything.

He watched enough American telly, he thought he'd be fine in the States. He wasn't prepared for a southern accent that didn't sound like Scarlett O'Hara's. The local accent was thicker than Nutella on a cold day. If you tried to smear their tour guide's accent on bread, your bread would get well ripped up.

Howard explained the motto 'Laissez les bons temps rouler', or 'Let the good times roll', derived from the uncertainty of life in early colonial life. No one expected to live very long anyway so they were always having it large in the Big Easy. Vince liked that New Orleans was dark and depressing, but in a fun way, like Howard. No matter how much Howard banged on about the city being to blame for the birth of jazz, Vince still loved New Orleans. He'd been off his tits for days, waking up and drinking a Bloody Mary in order to face another day of eating and drinking. Of all the jazzers Howard loved, Louis Armstrong was one of the more tolerable. His songs weren't all depressing and they mostly had words. During the day, Howard dragged him to museums and on educational tours (today it was the swamp tour!) and at night they wandered from bar to bar - seeing all the different bands. Howard wouldn't let them split up because he was afraid of getting stabbed up and thrown in the river, so they took turns picking bands to listen to.

There were parades every day and Vince had enough beads to reinvent his entire wardrobe and he hadn't shown his tits to anyone.  Yet. 

Howard had been paranoid when he'd won the all expenses paid trip to New Orleans and Vince had to talk him in to going. Howard kept wondering how he'd been entered into the contest in the first place; but Vince frequently handed out Howard's information in order to get free gifts, so it didn't seem strange to Vince at all. They finally agreed that if they saw anyone following them when they arrived in New Orleans, they would run to security and beg for asylum. So far, so good. The only people following them were drunk girls and a few drunk guys. Even Howard could have pulled if he tried (with the girls or the guys. One guy kept calling him PapaBear). The girls liked his accent and thought his mustache was well British. Vince kept his mouth shut and let the girls imagine there was a place in the world where Howard was fashionable.

At the end of every night, they stumbled back to their hotel room on Decatur Street and passed out in their respective beds alone. Since moving in together over Naboo's shop, they had taken to spending more of their evenings apart. Howard spent his evenings at boring jazz clubs or with his boring jazz friends while Vince went out to interesting places and had fun. It was nice to hang out with Howard again like in the old days.

Vince begrudgingly handed over the baby alligator to Howard. Howard gently stroked the gator between the eyes as Vince had done.

"Does he like this?" Howard asked.

"Dunno. His accent is well thick. He's from the bayou all right."

Howard laughed and passed the alligator to the next passenger. Vince noticed a sad look in Howard's eyes and rubbed his shoulder against his friend's.

"Makes you miss the zoo, eh?"

Howard puffed himself up, "What? Of course not. The zoo was rubbish. We barely had any real animals..."

"But it wasn't always like that."

The air went out of Howard, "No. It used to be something special. I wish you could have seen it when Tommy was there."

Vince rested his head on Howard's shoulder as the tour guide answered questions about alligators in his inscrutable accent. Maybe it was because he was feeling sentimental or maybe it was because he was in a strange land but instead of pushing him away, Howard rested his cheek on Vince's head.

xxx

Howard was dancing with a girl. Vince was dancing with five girls but that wasn't anything new. Girls loved dancing with Vince, but Howard? Howard was dancing with a real, live, beautiful girl. The music was too loud for him to ruin it with his jazzy nonsense and the girl was gazing up at him like he was some kind of Prince Charming.

Howard was going to pull.

Vince wasn't the slightest bit surprised when Howard pulled him outside to talk about having some 'private time' with his 'young lady friend'.

Howard's eyes kept shifting between Vince and his girl, like he was afraid she'd vanish if he looked away too long.

"This is a dangerous city, yeah? I don't want you wandering the streets alone. Maybe you could stay in the lobby..."

"I'm not hanging out in the lobby while you're shagging some bird in our room..."

"She's not 'some bird', she's a lovely and interesting..."

"What's her name?"

"Eileen? Irene? It was loud in there but the point is..."

"You've got two hours. In two hours, I will be sat on the couch in the lobby waitin' for you to come get me. You wait too long and I'm coming up."

Howard agreed with some reticence and headed off with the new love of his life, whatever-her-name-was. He called out daddish warnings over his shoulder to Vince about not talking to strangers and keeping his wallet pinned to his clothing as his female companion laughed and called him sweet.

Vince wanted to be happy for Howard. He decided to drink Hurricanes until he was happy.

xxx

Two girls escorted Vince back to his hotel. He wasn't actually blind but he could see where there term 'blind drunk' came from. The girls seemed a bit disappointed when he told them they weren't going upstairs and his hotel room was occupied. After a few warning glares from the desk clerk, Vince did his best to sit up and look proper.

He didn't recall passing out but the clerk was standing over him and gently suggesting he return to his room. His tone was kind but his eyes were flint so Vince staggered to the elevator. The heaving movement was almost too much to bear and he crawled to his room on his hands and knees. After knocking loudly and allowing time for frantic dressing, he pushed the door open. Howard's bed was rumpled but empty, as was the shower. Vince called him on his cell phone and heard the muffled ring coming from the safe. It took him a few times to open the safe because Howard had used Vince's birthday as the code.

Eventually, Vince remembered his real birthday was written on his passport. After taking a moment to cringe at his real age, he opened the safe and found Howard's cell phone and wallet.

Vince called down to the front desk and was assured that while Howard had come in with a young lady and appeared'highly intoxicated', he did not leave. Vince checked under the bed and in the closet just to be sure.

Then he called the police.

 


	3. Chapter 3

"I think your boy can take care of 'imself," Irene teased. "I heard 'im talk, sounds like 'e's got a little cockney in 'im."

Howard nodded and looked over his shoulder, just in case Vince was chasing after him, begging not to be left alone.

He wasn't.

He'd probably already been stabbed.

Howard started walking back towards the bar but Eileen/Irene held his arm tightly.

"'e's a big boy, 'e'll be fine on 'is own."

"He's really quite naive. He just assumes he'll get on with anybody he meets," Howard explained, his tongue thoroughly loosened by too many drinks. "Just because he does get on with everyone he meets doesn't mean there won't come a time..."

Howard was distracted by being pulled down by the collar into a passionate kiss. The feeling of a strange tongue in his mouth should have made Howard queasy, but there was something familiar about Eileen/Irene. She had big, clear, blue eyes and a way of tilting her head up to look at him that made him feel ten feet tall.

Not that there should be anything familiar about that. The only woman who had ever looked at him like that was his mother, and she was usually stoned and simply marveling that he was able to do things like find the car keys (on the key-shaped key holder he'd made) or the spare car keys (locked in his room for occasions when he was unable to intercept the keys from his intoxicated parents and put them on the key holder before they were lost).

"I'm sure 'e'll be fine for a few 'ours," she murmured as she ran her hands over his chest, "even without 'is 'usband lookin' out for 'im."

"What part of America are you from?" Howard asked, belatedly noticing her strange accent getting thicker.

"I'm from everywhere. I guess you could say I've been around," she said with a cheeky smile.

Howard wrapped his arms around her slim waist and looked into her all-too-lovely eyes. "I'm sorry. What did you say your name was?"

"It's Elsie, my boy. They call me Elsie."

The name rang a warning bell somewhere in Howard's drunken mind, but it was muffled by entirely too much rum. Howard had spent his whole life being the responsible one; first for his parents and then for Vince. It couldn't hurt to, just this once, ignore the obnoxiously pedantic angel on his shoulder (who seemed more interested in curfews and organized stationery than actual morality) and do something that felt wrong.

xxx

Howard's head was swimming as he staggered toward the room he was sharing with Vince. The Hurricanes Elsie had been forcing down his throat had clearly gone to his head and his stomach. He could never tolerate the sugary drinks that Vince considered a fifth food group (the first four being crisps, wine gums, licorice, and chocolate) but he could hardly refuse the beautiful Elsie. When Elsie pushed him down on the bed, he was grateful to be on his back and put one foot down to keep the room from spinning.

"Oh, 'oward. I'm starin' ta think some'un put somefink in your drink. You don't look well."

Howard barely registered the words as Elsie straddled his waist. He dearly hoped he wasn't going to be sick.

"I'm normally a moderate drinker. Old ‘Moderate Moon,’ they call me. Howard Moon doesn't usually go in for excess, but in the company of a lovely young lady like yourself - I was inclined to make an exception."

Elsie smiled and stroked the side of Howard's face. "I do hope you is a gentleman, Mr. Moon. I'd 'ate to fink I'm gettin' messed up wif a cad."

Howard put his hand over Elsie's smaller one. "I'm no cad. Howard Moon is, first and foremost, a gentleman."

He kissed her palm lightly before she began stroking her fingers through his hair. He was glad he'd used some of Vince's shampoo and his mane was looking rather shiny and manageable.

"Good," Elsie whispered into his ear, "cause you hear stories about these men who pretend to be in love, only to rob and abandon their future brides - leavin' 'em heartbroke and more than a little insane."

"I would never do that."

The hand tightened painfully in his hair, "S'at right, Moon? So you've never abandoned some'un who loved you? Took his only friend while you was at it?"

Howard pressed the small hands into his skull, until she was forced to release her grip - his zoo training was the closest he'd ever come to self-defense courses. The hands simply moved to his throat. He struggled and managed to throw Elsie off of him and onto the floor.

"Old Gregg?" he asked, his throat feeling bruised from the inside out.

"Actually, I'm 'is old dad, and you done my son wrong. I'm 'ere to make it right."

The lovely Elsie transformed into the monstrous Hitcher, only the wide blue eyes remaining the same. The same eyes as Old Gregg.

xxx

Howard tried to open his eyes, but he couldn't see. It took him a few minutes to realize he was tied up and apparently blindfolded.

Exactly what he’d expected to happen in New Orleans if he and Vince were separated. He should have never strayed from the itinerary.

He was trying to get his bearings when something was jammed down his throat and he began gagging.

"Best ya be sick now, 'fore I put the gag on ya. Don't want you to asphyxiate 'fore the weddin', now do we?"

Howard did his best not to be sick on himself, but once the spasms hit his stomach, they didn't stop. He felt like he was vomiting up everything he'd taken in since arriving in New Orleans. The taste of his own bile was infinitely preferable to that of the Hitcher's bony finger.

"Ah, you've gone and pissed ya'self, my boy."

Howard hadn't even noticed the warmth in his pants until then; he was still shaking and sweating.

"I'd love to piss on ya meself, but my boy's a bit of the jealous type. 'e's also a bit of the murderin' psychopath type, so I'm just gonna have a piss on this crackhead over here," the Hitcher explained as he jammed a cloth into Howard's mouth and covered it with what felt like duct tape.

Howard could hear the absurdly strong stream of urine in the distance. He fought vainly against his restraints, but it was a matter of minutes until he was tossed in the trunk of a vehicle. He tried to be like Sherlock Holmes and listen for clues - use his remaining senses. Instead, he promptly passed out.

xxx

Vince took Howard's cash card to an ATM. Howard had wisely never told him the PIN number, but Vince got it on the first try. It was his birthdate again. He was shocked by the amount of money Howard had managed to save up, considering how little they had always made. Vince wanted to go shopping, surround himself in beautiful things that would make him feel secure, but he only took out enough for food. He had no idea how long it would take to track down Howard or what expenses he might encounter. The death cab had been quite pricey.

Vince's eyes stung with the idea that Howard might be dead. Again.

It was different not being on his home turf. He didn't even have Naboo to help. He and Bollo were off with the Shaman Council in Brazil for Carnival. He wouldn't be answering his phone (or seeing straight) for at least a week.

He was on his own, in a strange country and surrounded by people he could barely understand. The police weren't bothered that Howard was missing. It hadn't been long enough for him to be considered properly missing, and the sergeant had been under the very wrong impression that Howard might have acted impulsively under the influence of alcohol and a lovely stranger.

When Howard had been accidentally dosed with acid (by his crazy hippy parents), he'd come straight round to Vince's and sat on their couch, drinking tea, chasing away imaginary spiders, and helping Vince with his maths homework. Vince had wanted to coddle Howard then, having learned from his parents that 'drugs are bad,' but the older boy would have none of it. He would only allow Vince to inspect his biscuits and tea for spiders as he tried to carry on like nothing was amiss. 

Howard wasn't impulsive, and if Howard said he would be somewhere, he was there.

Vince walked to an outdoor cafe and ate beignets as he sketched a picture of Eileen/Irene. He had a good memory for faces, especially pretty girl faces. He drew her blue eyes first, but when he was done, he knew it was wrong. The eyes needed to be bigger.

His hand was shaking as he finished the portrait. It would be good enough to show to the police and the local bars. He would do just that tonight, but first, it was back to the hotel. He needed to book a swamp tour.


	4. Chapter 4

Vince dangled as far off the boat as he could while a couple of lovely young ladies held onto his legs.

"He's a funky merman in a tutu. You can't miss him."

"Whatchu sayin'?" replied the alligator.

"He's half fish, half man, half Rick James. He's got a kind of seaweed gheri curl." Vince had only seen Old Gregg once. He'd saved Howard from his funky sea lovin' on the night of Howard's birthday. They should have both known the pencil case girl was too good to be true. When she had eagerly agreed to flirt with Howard for money, Vince should have sent her Diva Zappa-looking ass packing.

"You on the drugs, boy?" asked the alligator, with judgmental eyes.

"No, he's real, and I think he's in Louisiana somewhere, and he's got my best mate... my best friend, Howard Moon. He's tall and has little eyes, likes jazz and stationery."

"The fish-man?"

"No, Howard! The fish-man is shorter than Howard and has blue eyes. Let me show you their pictures."

Vince crawled back into the boat and grabbed his sketchpad.

"Wha' he say, boy?" asked the captain as he helped Vince stretch out towards the alligator. "Always wondered what they think 'bout, sunnin' themselves on the rocks."

"He thinks I'm on drugs," Vince explained as he held out a drawing of Howard and one of Old Gregg.

"Is you?" asked the captain as he gripped Vince's ankles.

"No! I'm just trying to save my best friend from being forcibly married to a sea monster."

"You is on drugs, ain't you?" the alligator asked, his lack of faith troubling Vince.

"I'm dead sober. Howard's my best mate, and I don't know what I'll do... Please, help me."

The alligator nodded his head, and everyone on the boat gasped.

"Coincidence," snorted the captain.

The gator shook his head no and said, "Tell that cap'in a yours not to be so haughty. An' tell'im to throw me another marshmallow. Them is tasty."

"He wants another marshmallow," Vince translated. He waited for the confection to be tossed before adding, "And he thinks you're full of yourself."

"I'll spread the word through the swamp. I sun on this rock pretty regular, if you needs to find me. Good day to ya, pretty lady-man."

With that, the alligator climbed back into the water and swam away.

xxx

Howard gagged on the thick and creamy liquid being forced down his throat.

Bailey's. Of all the things Old Gregg and the Hitcher could have been forcing down his throat, Howard welcomed the Bailey's. It tasted of beige.

"That's right, Howard. Wake up now. You're back with Old Gregg, my fuzzy little man peach. We're gonna be married. I'm Old Gregg!"

"'e knows you're Old Gregg! Not like 'e's gonna get you confused wit' sum'un else now, is 'e?" the Hitcher lectured in an almost fatherly way.

Old Gregg looked into his father's eyes. "I'm Old Gregg!"

xxx

"I'm fine with what I have on, really, Old Gregg. You needn't make a fuss. I'll just keep on what I'm wearing."

Howard's clothes were wet with sweat, urine, and vomit, but he really didn't want to take his clothes off anywhere near Old Gregg. The Hitcher seemed to be gone, but there was no knowing when he'd return. He'd only said he was off for a good rape and pillage. How long did that take? An hour? A year?

"But Old Gregg has nice clothes for you. Nice, creamy beige clothes to go with your little shifty brown eyes."

The merman looked so sincere and eager to please, one could almost forget he was a psychotic murderer.

"Thank you, Greggory. That's very thoughtful of you."

"Is it? Is Old Gregg thoughtful?"

Howard froze, unsure of how to proceed.

"Answer me. It's rude not to answer a question. Old Gregg doesn't like being treated rudely."

"You're very thoughtful, Old Gregg. Thank you for the clothes. Where can I go and change?" Howard answered, his voice cracking with nerves. As a child, Howard had spent a lot of time in the care of his Nan, before she was diagnosed as being bipolar. He tried to remember the techniques he'd used to deal with her - people had always marveled at his ability to get along with Nan Moon.

"You can change right here. You've seen Old Gregg, now Old Gregg wants to see you."

His tone was almost sweet. Howard's hands were shaking.

"I'd rather... maintain a little mystery? Save something for..."

"Our honeymoon?" Old Gregg asked, his eyes lighting up.

"Yes! We want that to be a special night, not sully it with a lot of pre-marital nudity, so if you could point me in the direction of a private room..."

"This is it. This is my home," Gregg explained as he waved his hand around the small, dank cave. "It's humble, but it's home. That's what Dad says. Dad says I can't live in Black Lake no more, because your pretty little friend would find us."

Howard grabbed at his chest as the claustrophobia set in. He was trapped in a tiny cave, God knew where, with Old Gregg.

Vince will find me. He always finds me.

"Old Gregg doesn't like your pretty little friend. Your pretty little friend keeps us apart. Why does he do that?" Old Gregg asked with a slight edge in his voice. "Why doesn't he want Old Gregg to be happy?"

Howard remembered two things that had helped him survive time spent with Nan Moon. Failing to find a sofa to hide under, Howard went with the second option: abject cowardice.

"He wants you to be happy, Old Gregg! I want you to be happy. Everyone wants you to be happy. What can I do to make you happy?" Howard asked with what he hoped was a nice smile.

"You can put on the clothes Old Gregg brought you."

Howard took the beige clothes from Old Gregg's hands. It was a vintage beige suit, perhaps from the early 1950's, and in very good shape.

"This is very nice. Where did you get this?"

"It was supposed to be a suit for a marriage but the groom ran away from his lovely bride," Old Gregg explained, holding Howard's gaze without a blink. Howard's knees felt a bit weak. He wondered what had happened to the husband-to-be, but he didn't dare ask.

"So if you could just turn your back, I'll change," Howard said, aiming for cheerful but sounding terrified to his own ears.

"Oh no. Old Gregg knows better than to turn his back on someone. Especially a slippery character like yourself. You don't want to go running away from me again, do you? That wouldn't be nice."

"You could... close your eyes?" Howard asked, afraid of pushing too hard.

"Or I could keep them open."

"That works, too."

"Thank you, sir."

Howard gave a terse nod and began to strip. He hadn't felt so self-conscious about his body since he'd had his third nipple removed. Well, had it transformed into a third ear, a nostril, and then a beetle, which had scurried away and never come back. He had to admit that in the end, Naboo's magic had freed him of his superfluous nipple, but it had been an unnecessarily painful process. Naboo said the magic was tricky. Howard thought it might have gone easier if Naboo hadn't eaten shrooms first.

Old Gregg made approving noises as Howard disrobed, causing the man to blush from his hairline to his feet. When he was down to his pants, he couldn't decide which way to turn. He didn't want Old Gregg seeing him from the front but he also didn't want to turn his back on Old Gregg. 

For several reasons.

He compromised by doing his best to jump into the dress slacks while covering his manhood with his hand. 

The trousers were short in the leg and big in the waist. The dress shirt was short in the arms yet hung nearly to his knees. He put on the suit jacket, wanting as many layers as possible, but opted to leave the tie off. He didn't need to help anyone strangle him. Old Gregg and the Hitcher surely had plenty of experience in that arena.

"You look nice, Howard. Very handsome and manly." Gregg's tone was gentle and almost awestruck.

"Thank you, Gregg. And thank you for the clean clothes. Your old man was a bit rough on me," Howard said in what he hoped was a neutral tone.

"Oh yes. Father can be quite hard, but he loves me."

"Is that why he keeps you in a cave at the bottom of the Mississippi?"

"Yes, sir. He always makes sure I have a nice place to live, and now we won't have to worry about your pretty friend."

Howard sat down on one of the two chairs in the cave before his knees buckled.

"You mean because he doesn't know where we are, right? You aren't going to do anything to him, are you?"

"What do you mean, Howard? What would I do to your pretty little friend?"

The menace was clear in his tone.

"Gregg, don't... Please don't hurt Vince. I'm begging you, please don't..."

"Why, motherlicker?" Gregg was quickly across the room and yanking Howard's head back by the hair. "Why should I care about your little friend? He's trying to keep you from me. He's a bad man."

"He's not bad. He just doesn't understand," Howard whimpered.

"What doesn't he understand, sir?"

"Our love? He doesn't know how much I love you, Gregg. If I tell him, he'll understand and he won't be any bother. Just let me talk to him..."

His head hit the table and was pulled back before he had time to register anything but pain.

"You're not going anywhere, Howard Moon. Old Gregg is trying to forgive you, but he can't trust you."

It felt like there was an awful lot of blood coming from his head. Old Gregg was smiling. 

"I'm sorry, Gregg."

He loosened his grip on Howard's hair and began stroking his fingers through the blood-matted curls.

"You've got a cut on your forehead. Old Gregg will fix it up for you. Old Gregg is first aid certified."

"Thank you, Greggory."


	5. Chapter 5

Howard curled up as tightly as possible under the couch. His heart was beating so loudly he could barely hear his mother's voice.  
"Howie? Howie? Did you sneak some of Mummy's cookies? Howie? Did you eat the cookies Mummy had hidden? Howie? Howie?"  
Howard slowly nodded his head. He’d eaten the cookies. He’d thought cookies were safe.  
Cakes were never safe, but cookies? He'd eaten cookies all his life (all five years) and never had a problem before today. The world had gone mad again.  
He wondered if his heart was going to explode.  
"Mummy? I don't feel good. I'm scared."  
"Howie! It's okay, come to Mummy. Let Mummy hold you."  
Howard wanted a nice, safe-feeling hug, but comfort couldn't come from his mother. As much as he loved her, she was the main source of chaos in his life. She caused his problems; she couldn't save him from herself.  
xxx  
Howard looked at the fish on his plate. The fish looked back.  
"Greggory... I hate to be difficult, but... I can't actually eat a fish with its scales still on. It's a human thing. Our teeth aren't strong enough. It's a nuisance, but there you go."  
Howard held his breath until Gregg responded. When the merman looked concerned (and not furious), Howard let out the breath he'd been holding.  
"How do humans eat fish, Howard? What do you do with your weak little human teeth?"  
"Well, Gregg, we cut off the scales. And the head. Pull out the bones. Flavor it with some spices, and... cook it."  
Old Gregg laughed. "You're playing games with Old Gregg. You're a funny man. You're making jokes with Old Gregg like you do with your pretty lady-man."  
Howard tensed at the reference to Vince.   
"I'm being serious, Gregg. That's how humans eat fish. I'm partial to a nice panko breading, side of chips..." Howard faltered under Gregg's stare. "But this is fine. This is lovely. Have you got a knife?"  
"Oh yes, Howard. Old Gregg has a knife."  
Howard just let the threat hang in the air. His forehead was still pounding from Old Gregg's last burst of anger.   
Old Gregg gave Howard an almost sweet smile as he plucked the fish from Howard's plate. With a sharp incisor, Gregg gutted the fish. Soon, Howard had neat strips of raw fish on the plate in front of him.  
"Did you learn that in home economics?" Howard asked with a forced laugh.   
"I told you I made a crumble. You said you were happy for Old Gregg. Did you mean that?"  
Howard swallowed loudly. "I am happy for you, Gregg. I'm sure life hasn't been easy for you..."  
"You have no idea what life is like for Old Gregg!"  
Howard cowered in fear and felt a bit silly when Old Gregg remained seated and looking calm.  
Howard hesitantly picked up a piece of raw fish. He thought of the sushi place he and Vince would occasionally visit. Vince would get pissed on his first sake, decide he didn't like what he'd ordered, and proceed to eat everything off of Howard's plate. Howard bit into the raw fish and imagined alcohol-glazed blue eyes staring up at him with unearned admiration.  
"Mmmm," Howard purred as he tried not to gag. "Yum."  
"Old Greg did good?"  
"Mmmm."  
xxx  
Two hours later, Howard was again drenched in sweat, but at least he had a bucket to vomit into. Gregg was surprisingly kind as Howard's entire body rejected the rancid fish. He gratefully slipped into unconsciousness, his sweaty forehead pressed to the cold rock beneath him as Old Gregg held a cold, damp cloth to the back of Howard's neck.   
xxx  
Howard slipped in and out of consciousness as Old Gregg stripped him of his now-ruined suit. Old Gregg's hand were rough and scaly, but his touch was gentle as he ran his hands over Howard's body. Howard dimly thought the touch seemed less lecherous than exploratory. Even as Gregg stroked him between his thighs, Howard was reminded more of Vince's fumbling hand (was it sixteen years ago? Seventeen?) than of anyone else who had groped him over the years. Howard Moon: Groping Connoisseur. Howard barely stirred as Gregg stroked his flaccid penis and cupped his testicles like he was a prize-winning terrier. When Gregg tried to force a dry finger in his anus, Howard whimpered and Old Gregg quickly withdrew his digit. Howard wondered what Gregg had done with his previous companions, like old Curly Jefferson. During his first encounter with the merman, Howard had been waiting for the seemingly inevitable rape with the air of one who was used to seeing Murphy's Law enacted every day of his life.   
Now he was naked, weak, and helpless, and Old Gregg was giving him a feel-up whilst wiping the sweat from Howard's brow with a damp cloth. It was horrible, but Howard had taken his first acid trip at the age of three - laced lemonade - and he knew how cruel the world could be. It was only a matter of time until things got worse. Perhaps following this sentiment, his brain blessedly decided to shut down for the night and let Gregg carry out his investigations in private.  
xxx  
"I thought I was just stupid, so I would act up, try to make people laugh so they would be laughing with me, you know, not at me. My parents got me a tutor when I was eleven, and I couldn't do even the simplest math. Imagine that! They brought in this great big Northern bloke with tiny eyes and hands the size of me head. Oh, he was twelve feet tall at least, and about forty years old. Course, I realized later he's only about 6'2 and he was sixteen at the time, but when you're an eleven-year-old runt... It's all about proportion, I guess. So this great Northern giant keeps asking me questions. I keep tryin' to make him laugh or distract him, but he doesn't want to hear it. He is dead serious about making me understand my maths homework, and I don't want him to know I'm stupid, because he scares me but I want him to like me. I feel like I would be smarter and more mature if this guy liked me. I feel like that sometimes, like you're a very sweet girl and I feel like if you like me, I'll be a little bit sweeter. So he won't stop quizzing me, until I break down and tell him the numbers keep moving around on the page and I can't keep track of them. The next week, I'm tested for dyslexia. I'd still think I was stupid if it weren't for him being such a bossy freak. My parents loved him after that. He was a real serious type, and me mum was always trying to get him to relax and eat. He was also real skinny, like sickly skinny. He was so nervous. It makes me happy when he gets a little belly now. For years and years, he was always on pins and needles, and now he can have a few pints and even a pastry and get a little beer belly. I always want to touch his tummy, but he won't let me."  
Sally looked perplexed, Vince hoped it wasn't his accent again. They'd spent an hour talking before she'd started to understand what Vince was saying.  
"So... You are best friends with, and share an apartment with, your tutor from elementary school?"  
"Bit more complicated than that, but yeah. That's how I met Howard. That was the first time he saved me and I saved him."  
"He saved you from dyslexia, and you saved him from...?"  
"His life. His life was rubbish. I helped him make a whole new one. A much better one."  
"Until he got abducted by a merman."  
Vince frowned. "Yeah. Until then."  
Sally sighed and took another sip of drink. "It must be the hurricanes talking, but yes, you can borrow my boat."


	6. Chapter 6

Sally thought it was a yes or no question but clearly she was wrong. It was in fact a question that involved a long story including a cabin in the woods, a gorilla, a shaman, a man named Kodiak Jack and Yetis. Lots of horny Yetis.  
"So Howard shows up lookin' like he's on his way to audition for 'Hair', like he's gonna start singing 'Let the Sunshine In' at any minute. Oh, he had on this long robe and hippie face paint, a real flower child. His eyes were well glassy and he says his name is Parsley and starts singing this really catchy song about how we don't need our friends and family and nothing is real. Naboo told me to stay punk and resist..."  
Sally looked at Vince's golden hair and sequined top. Even with the green and purple highlights, the word punk did not come to mind. Strange, androgynous, beautiful, confusing, delusional - those were words that described Vince, not punk.  
"But then Naboo and Bollo were singing and dancing and Howard was smiling at me so nicely... It just seemed like a good idea, ya know?"  
"So you started singing and dancing?" Sally asked as they walked from her truck to the pier. She wanted to hear the end of the story before she and Vince were alone in the swamp. He seemed sweet, but he also seemed unhinged and a girl needs to be careful.  
"Everything went a bit fuzzy, like I'd been drinking champagne. The Yetis gave me a robe and put my hair in bunches..."  
"Bunches?" Sally asked.  
Vince used his hands to pull his hair into ponytails. "Bunches."  
"Gotcha."  
"And I guess they gave me the feather or maybe I did that... I don't remember it very clearly but I was rocking a Pocahontas look and we was all dancing and singing and then the Yeti brought out this big fluffy bed..."   
"So they could mate with the four of you?" Sally asked, She was trying to walk slowly, still wondering if she should just make a run for it.  
"Apparently that's what they do, though it don't make much sense if you ask me."  
Sally was glad to hear Vince admit that at least this part of the story was lacking in logic.   
"Anyway," Vince continued, "Parsley put his arms around me and just held me... and I was thinking I could be called Bunches, cause of the hair but also because then we'd be Parsley Bunches or maybe Bunches of Parsley and we could start a folk duo. Not like the glam rock folk duo I had with Leroy, that didn't work out at all."   
Sally was entranced by the story but also kept her hand on her bag, just in case she needed her gun. There seemed to be a lot of attempts at non-consensual sex happening in the story.  
"So he was holding me and I was so happy..." Vince's cheeks pinked slightly, "And then he started kissing me and moving me towards the bed."  
Now Sally's cheeks were turning pink. Her lack of attraction to men in general didn't keep her from enjoying a story of man-on-man loving.  
"I remember lying on the bed, with the gown rucked up around my waist and Howard was on top of me, kissing me and... touching me and I think maybe getting me ready for, you know, and then..."  
Sally actually leaned forward before catching herself and putting her hand back on her bag. She wasn't going to end up dead at the bottom of a swamp because a beautiful androgynous man told her a dirty story.  
"And then?"  
Vince shook his head, as though coming out of a trance, "And then I woke up to the sound of a gunshot. Kodiak Jack was there and telling us to run. We were all on the bed and Bollo was between me'n'Howard so I don't know what went on in between. I remember more than anyone else because I was the last to go under the spell. I don't know what happened, if we made love or if the Yetis stopped us or if we passed out... anything could have happened."  
"Do you think the Yetis... mated with the four of you?" Sally asked, unable to help herself. Vince's madness was intoxicating.  
"Based on how they went after Kodiak Jack, I think we'd know if that happened to us," Vince explained, his loopy grin returning, "He seemed to enjoy it but he was getting well roughed up by those hairy ladies."  
"Did you ever talk to Howard about what happened? Or might have happened?"  
Vince shook his head and looked at his feet, hiding behind his hair like a child, "No. I didn't know how he'd feel about it. Especially since he don't remember any of it or why he did it..."  
"I think we both know why," Sally chided, "Is that the only thing that's gone down between the two of you? Sorry, poor choice of words."  
Vince didn't seem to notice the accidental pun, "There've been lots of times when something almost happened or sort of happened but I always started it and he always ended it."  
Sally put an arm around his sequined shoulder and Vince leaned into her and whispered, "I don't know what I'd do without him."   
And that was the end of Vince's thirty minute answer to the question, "Have you and Howard ever fucked?"  
xxx  
Sally had cast all reason aside and decided Vince was clearly too sweet to be dangerous, even if he did claim to talk to animals. She now held her gun in case one of the gators didn't care for Vince's questions. He'd chatted with a few otters but said they were 'totally mental - furry little retards' and the birds were also of little help. Vince claimed the alligators had thick bayou accents and were hard to understand. Sally suggested, facetiously, that he needed a translator. Vince gave her a big kiss on the cheek. Sally blushed as she scrubbed the lip gloss off her face. Surely, Howard had been in love. If it weren't for the skin-tight pants making it clear Vince was in fact a man, she might have fallen in love herself.  
xxx  
Howard had no sense of time. Sometimes he was awake and sometimes he was dreaming, and it was difficult to tell the two states apart. One minute, he was teaching a fifteen-year-old Vince the ins and outs of seed distribution, the next he was having Bailey's forced down his throat.  
Surely, life was not so unkind as to make the force-fed Bailey's from a merman be the reality. Howard spat out the taste of beige and rolled onto his back. Old Gregg was looking down on him with concern. Old Gregg was always there when he opened his eyes, ever the attentive nursemaid. Howard appreciated the cool cloths on his forehead and neck and the constant changing of his linens as he went from freezing cold to sweating profusely at random intervals. He even appreciated the cool but brackish water that started him vomiting all over again.  
He was less appreciative of waking up to find himself being, for lack of a better word, snuggled by the merman. He did not especially appreciate the nude watercolors of Howard that seemed to multiply every time he opened his eyes. He did not appreciate the constant feeling that he'd been tampered with while unconscious and he did not appreciate the fucking Bailey's being poured down his throat.   
"I need water," his voice was barely a whisper.  
"The water made Howard sick," Old Gregg explained, offering more Bailey's.  
"Fresh water. I'm dehydrated," Howard explained, weakly trying to push his sweaty hair from his forehead.  
He didn't hear Gregg's response.  
He sat on the sofa in the living room, waiting to ring in the New Year alone, in front of the telly. He had a moderately priced bottle and two champagne flutes, just in case Vince decided to come home early. It was a long shot but sometimes holidays made Vince cling to Howard - his surrogate family.  
Vince did come home before midnight, saying some nonsense about wanting to spend more time with Howard, as though they didn't spend nearly every waking moment together as they had done for the past fifteen years. They clinked glasses at midnight and just as Howard prepared to ask Vince if he had any resolutions such as, "Have bigger hair, do less work in the shop, be more annoying to Howard," the joke died on his lips - smothered by Vince's mouth. Howard dropped his half -full champagne glass but otherwise remained motionless as Vince kissed him. The kiss was gentle, romantic and utterly unexpected. When Vince stood up and moved to the stairs, Howard felt a coolness on his forehead.  
This is a dream.  
In reality, Vince had gone upstairs and they hadn't discussed the kiss again. Howard called for Vince to wait.  
Vince looked surprised, "That's not what happened. You just let me walk up the stairs. You didn't even look back."  
"Yeah, well this is a dream, innit? Why did you kiss me just then?"  
"It was over two months ago," Vince reminded him, "It's nearly Mardi Gras. You're going to miss it if I can't find you."  
"I'm with Old Gregg... somewhere."  
"I know that, you berk! But where? A swamp? The middle of the Mississippi?"  
"I think it's in the Mississippi, I mentioned it once and Old Gregg didn't argue..."  
"Do you know how big the bloody Mississippi River is!" Vince exclaimed, "It could take me years to find you!"  
"I don't think I have years," Howard said, trying to keep his dream voice calm.  
Vince flew down the stairs and threw his arms around Howard, "I need time Howard. Hang on. For me."  
Howard could feel Old Gregg's tutu on the back of his thighs. He'd be awake soon.  
"I'll try, Vince."  
"I love you, Howard. I thought it would work if I took things slow. I'm sorry."  
"Hurry, Vince!"  
Vince's name echoed through the cave and Old Gregg did not look pleased. Howard closed his eyes.


	7. Chapter 7

Howard wakes with a start, flinging away the hand that is stroking him through his bedclothes.  
"Chill out, Howard, it's just me," Vince whispers, snuggled up behind Howard on the bed, his hand settling on Howard's hip and slowly moving back towards his erection, "Just relax."  
Howard is in his childhood room, his self-created sanctuary from the madness of his family, where he lived until he left university to work at the Zooniverse. He tries to still Vince's hand but his long-time friend is persistent.  
"What's going on, Vince? Why are we here?"  
"Shhh, Howard, don't talk or he'll hear," Vince whispers before placing a kiss on Howard's shoulder.  
As Vince's hand slides beneath the waist of Howard's pajama pants, he wonders how Vince's hands got so rough when he did no work and moisturized three times a day.  
"Don't ask questions, Howard, just relax," Vince continues in a low and husky voice, "I've got you."  
When he tries to speak again, Vince covers Howard's mouth with his own, his black hair draping around Howard's face. It isn't until Howard tries to roll onto his back to be better able to kiss Vince back that he feels pain in his neck.  
"What's going on..."  
Vince stifles him with a deep kiss before answering, "Howard, you can't say my name. I'll leave if you try to say my name again."  
Vince's hand is moving faster on Howard's cock and Howard doesn't have the energy or concentration to argue. "Why are we here?"  
Vince shrugs and giggles, "I dunno. ‘Cause I tried to give you a handy here once before and you wouldn't let me? Does it matter?"  
Howard strokes Vince's golden hair, "Don't bring that up at a time like... wasn't your hair black a minute ago?"  
Vince shakes his hair and it turns black again, "Genius, right? Now just relax."  
Howard winces as Vince's grip tightens. "Too rough... please."  
Vince loosens his grip slightly and Howard feels his orgasm building, "I'm almost there, V-"  
"No!" Vince barks, "Do not say my name!"  
Howard remains quiet as his body begins to tense in preparation for the release that is seconds away.  
Rough hands grip him around the throat, slamming his head against a wall of the cave. "The pretty lady man is gone."  
"Stay with me, Howard. It's better if you stay with me," Vince whispers as he continues to stroke Howard's cock with his surprisingly rough and scaly hand.  
Scaly hands with sharp nails cutting of his airflow until the world goes black.  
"Look into my eyes, Howard," Vince instructs as he speeds his pace, "Just look at me, loving you, like always."  
Howard looked into Vince's clear blue eyes and came. Then his mind cleared.  
xxx  
Howard's eyes popped open and he saw Old Gregg staring at his green, scaly and now semen covered hand. The merman hesitantly licked at his fingers, wrinkled his nose and astutely observed, "Salty."  
"Greggory..." Howard tried to think of something to say that wouldn't result in another near strangling, "We talked about this."  
"Talked about what, Howard?" Old Gregg asked, still investigating his hand.  
"About not... touching me when I'm asleep. It's not... what people are meant to do," Howard felt irritation mixing with his fear. "When two people..."  
"Make love times?" Gregg offered, helpfully.  
"Sure, love times. They're both meant to be willing, Greggory. And awake."   
Gregg looked baffled, "But Howard is always asleep."  
"I'm sick. I need clean water and human food," Howard snapped, not bothering to hide his annoyance, "You're killing me and you're going to have to find another man to forcibly marry."  
Howard gagged down a little more Bailey's from the bottle at his side and slipped back into the not-quite-sleep-state between his real life and some god-awful cave in the middle of nowhere.  
xxx  
"Well, the first time I made a move on Howard, I was a bit too young and it creeped him out," Vince explained as he pulled a lo mein noodle from his plate, "This is how a turtle eats."  
Vince did a surprisingly accurate imitation of a turtle eating vegetable lo mein. They were sitting in Vince's hotel room, waiting for a call back from Bryan Ferry.  
"How old were you?" Sally asked as she dug into her sweet and sour shrimp.  
"Firteen."  
"Fourteen?"  
"Firteen!"  
"Thirteen?"  
"Yeah, firteen."  
Sally nearly choked on her shrimp, "Thirteen? Yeah, that's a bit young."  
"It was a bit of a misunderstanding, really. When my dad had his first heart attack, I was in class and Mum rang Howard to see if he could pick me up and take care of me 'till she was sure everything was okay and all, but he was at university and his mum answered."  
"The one who dosed Howard with acid?" Sally asked, amazed by how Vince's crazy stories had begun to feel real. She had always considered herself to be smart and yet, here she was (without her gun).  
"Yeah, this was before that happened or Mum probably wouldn't have dropped me off with Howard's parents. She figured they were like him, all responsible and serious," Vince explained between noodles, "His folks were pretty amazing! His dad was pretty out of it but his mum was feeding me biscuits in individual packets and tellin' me stories from the sixties but she was editing them to be more appropriate, takin' out the sex and drugs, so she told me she 'dated' three of the original Stones and 'had tea' with Keith Moon."  
Sally laughed, "She sounds awesome!"  
"She was well cool! Then Howard came home and whooooaaa, he goes mental! 'What's he doin' here? What are you feeding him? Vince, spit that out right now!' Me and his mum was cowerin' in fear and he's yellin' at us and his mum's sayin' how she didn't give me nothing that weren't individually wrapped and checked that the seal on my soda wasn't tampered with. It was mental! Eventually, I just had to tell him to stop yellin' cause my dad was sick and he had to be nice to me."  
Sally felt guilty she'd forgotten that part. Vince had a way of glossing over the darker parts of his stories.  
"So I tell him what happened and he apologized to his mum. It was really sad the way he did it. I don't know why..." Vince turned serious for a moment.  
"Maybe because he had good reason not to trust her, maybe it was too late for him to ever really trust her no matter how hard she tried," Sally offered, thinking of her own mother.  
Vince chewed his lip, "Yeah, so Howard takes me up to his room and he orders out for food and only lets me drink from sealed containers and won't let me out of his sight. He makes me do all my homework plus some extra studying before I can watch telly or listen to music. He's bein' all harsh and strict but he also keeps touching' my hair and shoulder. He didn't usually touch me but I guess he was bein' comfortin' an' it started gettin' a little weird for me."  
"Did you feel like he was making advances?" Sally asked, suddenly worried about the direction this story was taking and that it might make her less eager to save Howard from the clutches of a merman.  
"No! Nuttin' like that. I was thirteen but I looked well young. People were always giving me coloring books in restaurants, it was embarrassin'! But I do like to color so it wasn't that bad... What was I talkin' 'bout?"  
"Howard was touching you."  
"Oh, yeah. I was firteen but I looked little and my voice hadn't changed yet, but I was goin' through puberty an' all an' I had a pretty big crush on Howard; so bein' in his bedroom and him touching me... it was puttin' thoughts in my head and when you're firteen, a thought in your head quickly becomes an unsightly bulge in your trousers, but he wouldn't let me go to the bathroom unless he was standing outside and he kept hurrying me up."  
"Why? Did his parents hide drugs in there?"  
"Maybe, but mainly he was worried about all the porn. There was porn everywhere! I was findin' it without even tryin'! I tried to smuggle a few out in me jumper but Howard nailed me straight away and confiscated them. Told me they would warp my mind," Vince explained with a laugh.  
"Why was he so uptight? He must have been used to it," Sally asked.  
"He'd been findin' porn since he was a little kid but I guess some of it was pretty dark and it... bothered him. He'd never talk about it in specifics, just that it wasn't something you'd want to accidentally see."  
"So that's why he's still a little uptight?"  
"A little? He's in his thirties and still a virgin... as far as he knows," Vince studied his take-away and flushed. "I mean, he don't know about the yeti, if anything even happened, and who knows what's happenin' to him now because I can't find him..."  
Sally jumped up from the bed she was sitting on and wrapped an arm around Vince, "You're doing everything you can, Vince."  
Vince blinked rapidly and continued in a whisper, "He made me sleep against the wall so I couldn't get up in the middle of the night without him knowing, and I couldn't sleep because I was worried about my dad and was feeling pretty confused and keyed up with all the touching and the vintage porn and not being able to have a wank and Howard was right there... So I was curled up, facing the wall and trying to think about boring things to go to sleep and then Howard wraps his arm around me and he's pressed right up against me from behind... I remember thinking, 'This is it, I'm going to lose my virginity. This is how sex starts.' I ain't even open-mouth kissed someone at that point and I'm thinkin' I'm about to get a bummin' an' I'm a little scared, but Howard kind of moans and rubs against me an' there's no way I'm backin' out. I'm the shortest boy in my class and I think I'm going to be a virgin forever..."  
"At thirteen?" Sally teased, stroking Vince's hair.  
"You got no sense of perspective at firteen. So I figure I'll just lie there and he'll take care of things cause I have no clue what actually happens between two guys. Then he rolls over and when I look to see what he's doing, he's just lyin' there with his back to me. I thought maybe he was mad cause I didn't do anything, I just laid there and maybe he thought I wasn't interested," Vince looked incredibly vulnerable as he spoke, Sally can't keep from stroking his hair and trying to comfort him. "So I kind of reached around and, you know, felt around and he's just ignoring me and I'm getting a little panicky because I don't know what he wants. Then he grabs me by the wrist and throws me off him. He's sitting up and yelling, 'Don't touch me!' and looking all crazy like Tom Cruise in that movie where he's got a wheelchair. He's lookin' all around for who was sneakin' in his room and grabbin' his John Thomas while he's sleepin' and it finally occurs to him that the dangerous pervert is me."  
The phone rang and Vince eagerly answered, leaving Sally hanging.  
"Bryan! It's Vince. I need your help."


	8. Chapter 8

"Yeah, I know who he is... I've seen him on telly... Room 213?... Five o'clock sharp. Thanks Bryan, you're a life saver."  
Vince was beaming as he hung up.  
"Bryan found a translator for you?" Sally asked, more than a little incredulous. Apparently Bryan Ferry was just one of many singers who spoke to animals. The craziest part was, she had every intention of going to meet this singing Dr. Doolittle. She couldn't imagine letting Vince wander the city alone in his lovesick haze of innocence and possible mental illness.   
"Thank you, Sally, for staying with me," Vince said sweetly, "I'm not used to bein' alone. It's been me'n'Howard for so long."  
"So you were fondling your tutor in his sleep..." Sally started, her tone teasing.  
"Yeah. He was more than a tutor by then. My mum would have him over for Sunday dinner. He'd wear a tie and everything. If I wanted to go to a big concert, Mum would buy Howard a ticket so he could watch over me. He was way stricter than my parents! He was so uptight and bossy but I loved him..." Vince blushed and looked away, "I always wanted to make him smile. There's still nothing better than making him laugh because his whole face changes and he always looks surprised that he's laughing..."  
Sally grabbed his hand as Vince's voice trailed off, "We'll find him, Sweetie. We will."  
Vince's smile didn't quite meet his eyes, "Course we will. I always save Howard and he saves me. Even then.. He asked me if I was okay and I told him I was sorry, I just got confused. I remember he told me it weren't me, it were the house and I shouldn't be bothered. Then he put Ziggy Stardust on to help me sleep. He was real sweet about it. I fell asleep right away after that. I felt safe, you know? I was happy to be in my little corner of Howard's room."  
Sally sighed. She was going to get diabetes from Vince's sweetness, "Did you ever talk about it?"  
Vince looked thoughtful, "A little bit, later on. The next day, he drove me to hospital to be with my mum and dad. Dad was doing good but it was scary to see him like that, all sick. When Mum took me home that night, I told her everything."  
"No you didn't! I'm sorry, continue."  
"It just started coming out of me, it wasn't till she started asking questions that I realized it might not make Howard look good. Then I started crying because if they fired Howard as my tutor, I'd never see him again. He wouldn't want to hang out with a little kid."  
"How did your mom react?" Sally asked, fully engrossed though she had a pretty good idea how the story ended (with Howard being abducted by a merman).  
"She was great. She just pulled over and hugged me and said it were all right to have those feelings about Howard but I was too young to be acting on them. She said Howard could get into trouble because I was underage and that really worried me cause Howard never did anything against the rules. He had to miss a class to take me to the hospital and he never missed a class before. I told him I'd sit outside on a bench and not cause trouble so he could go to his class and...," Vince blushed again, "And he hugged me and said that me'n'my family was more important than a class."   
Sally sighed for the lovestruck 13-year-old who was now a lovestruck adult.  
"My dad took a turn for the worse that night and Mum called Howard's house again and got his mum who said all kinds of nice things about me and that I was welcome any time but, of course, Howard got on the line and ended that right quick. No more visits to his house! Mum shooed me out the room so she could talk to Howard in private, so I hid in a cupboard and eavesdropped. She starts tellin' Howard how I told her what happened last night and I guess he was well upset cause me mum must have spent twenty minutes trying to calm him down." Vince leaned in and whispered the next part, "I think he was crying! She weren't saying much just, ‘I know you didn't,’ and, ‘I never thought that,’ and stuff like that, so you can imagine what kind of horrible things... I felt bad about upsettin' him so much, but Mum was great. She asked him to come over and stay in the guest room so she could go to hospital with Dad. Then she yelled at me to get out the cupboard and quit eavesdropping ‘cause it was well rude."  
Sally laughed, "So things were okay with Howard?"  
"Yeah, he came over and made me pancakes for dinner and let me put candy in them. Normally he made me eat vegetables and disgusting things like that. He still made me study and go to bed on time but you could tell he was tryin' to be extra nice... but he hardly looked me in the eye the whole time. He came over a lot while Dad was sick. By the time he came home, Howard had cleaned the whole house. Mom and Dad joked that he should move in, and I thought that would be amazin' but... It were maybe two weeks later he dropped out of uni and went to work at the Zooniverse."  
Having never met the man, Sally was shocked that straight-laced Howard would drop out of school. She felt like she knew him, "What happened?"  
"Not sure, but... I think having me there and what happened... he needed to get out of that house. He was well happy at the zoo and talked about his boss, Tommy, all the time. He was Howard's hero. He sounded like a nutter but Howard talked about Tommy the way I talked about Howard - all lovey and hero-worshippin'. I hated Tommy straight away, but I couldn't say nothin' bad ‘bout him or Howard would have a fit. Well, we better get going, we can't keep Weezy waitin'," Vince announced, jumping off the bed.  
"Who is Weezy?" Sally asked, as she puffed her hair where it had flattened from lying down for 'Vince Noir's Story Hour'.  
"Don't you watch telly? He's got viddies'n'all," Vince explained as he primped his modified Mardi Gras mullet.  
Sally rolled her eyes and decided they were definitely making a stop to pick up her gun. The merman business was stretching the imagination, but this was ridiculous.  
And if it was true... Vince was going to need a native of New Orleans to translate.  
Parsley watched Vince free himself of the dark clothing of his new gothic style and adorn himself in a flowing white robe. For a moment, he was able to take in the stunning view of Vince's nude body before the robe covered him and a yeti tied his newly dark hair into bunches, adding a feather to complete the earthy look.   
He was beautiful. Parsley couldn't imagine not holding the younger man, kissing him and smelling his hair. Vince smiled and sighed as Parsley kissed his eyes and nose. Under all the pretense, Vince was still the pure and beautiful boy he'd been when they met. Out here, far from the dangers of the city and Howard's parents, they could truly be together. Parsley gathered Vince in his arms and swung him in a circle as the smaller man explained he wanted to be called Bunches from now on, and something about a folk duo.   
It didn't matter where the bed came from, perhaps it appeared out of thin air because it was meant to exist. Things like that happened when you truly surrendered to nature.  
Bunches smiled and laughed as Howard tossed him on the bed. He was, as always, the very picture of innocence. Eden personified and wearing too much eye make-up.  
Howard was confused by the small pot of salve handed to him by a yet, but Bunches pulled Parsley down on top of him, positioning their bodies until Parsley understood. Gone was the shame, fear and anxiety the old Howard experienced at the thought of physical intimacy. Bunches clung to his neck, giggling between kisses as he was stretched and prepared - impervious to fear as ever, and full of trust and love.  
Parsley had fuzzy memories of years of trying and failing to express his love as it grew from a brotherly affection to something much more complicated. How absurd it seemed now that this Howard person thought he could sully the beauty beneath him. Bunches was a diamond: beautiful and nearly indestructible. The world could fall apart, as it often did, and Bunches would remain.  
Even the watchful eyes of the yetis could not make Parsley feel ashamed as he made love to Bunches; hopelessly romantic words tumbling, unfiltered, from his mouth and Bunches simply whispered (again and again), "I love you so much".  
The world disappeared inside Howard's stomach, along with a sharp toed boot.  
"Wake up, ya slag. Drink some water 'fore you go and die on my boy. I ain't findin' 'im another freak to marry. I got me own life," snapped the Hitcher.  
Howard tried to cling to the long buried memories but they were fading and retreating back to the deepest recesses of his brain - to the synapses that still retained multiplication tables up to 15 and the rules for meeting the Queen. Happy memories were less than useless in this cave.  
Howard greedily drank the water offered by the Hitcher who laughed, "Drink up, boy. You're gonna need your strength. My boy is quite vigorous!"  
Howard saw Old Gregg peering nervously over the Hitcher's shoulder, "Old Gregg doesn't want Howard to die."  
The Hitcher gave Howard another kick in the stomach, causing him to roll over in pain and gag on the water he'd been gulping down. The Hitcher used a series of well-placed kicks that left Howard on his stomach with his legs spread.  
"There ya go, my boy. Let's get this marriage consummated so I can go 'bout my business."  
"Can I have more water first?" Howard asked, eyeing the pack of water bottles behind the blue-eyed monsters, "I'm still quite..."  
A kick in the kidneys shut Howard up for the moment.  
"I see this one still don't know 'is place," the Hitcher sneered, "You've been too soft on 'im."  
"Howard is sick. Old Gregg needs to make him better before we get married. Howard says that when we make love times, Old Gregg and Howard have to both be willing and awake."  
The Hitcher grabbed Howard by the hair and pulled him to his knees, laughing, "Is that what you've been tellin' my boy? Fillin' 'is 'ead with 'ippie nonsense like consent? Old Gregg, it's time your old man taught you the truth about the birds and bees."  
Howard tried to remember his dream about being happy but it was gone without a trace


	9. Chapter 9

Howard closed his eyes.  
He could hear the Hitcher undo his zipper.  
He thought of Vince, his Vince.  
"All right, Howard?" Vince's voice was as cheeky as ever as he wrapped his thin arm around Howard's neck.   
"You're choking me," Howard whispered.  
The Hitcher's laugh cut through Howard's haze.  
Vince's arm around his neck, holding him up. Spitting on his hand. Preparing him. Vince's fingers painfully digging inside of him.  
"That's right, Howard," Vince's voice sounded a little harsher than usual, "I'm gonna give ya a nice bummin'."  
Howard tried to relax his muscles, he just had to get through this.  
"Am I hurtin' ya, Howard?" Vince asked, trying to push his cock into Howard, oblivious to Howard's lack of readiness.  
"It hurts, please stop," Howard whispered. He could hear harsh laughter in the distance.  
"Why?" Vince asked sweetly, "This is what you've wanted to do to me since I was a kid."  
"That's not true."  
"You had me in your bed when you were twice my size! You made me think I had to do something for you in exchange for being nice to me."  
"That's not what happened," he tried shaking his head but he could hardly move, "That's all wrong."  
"What's wrong, Howard? You don't want me here?" Vince asked, "You'd rather get bummed by the Hitcher than me?"  
Howard let out a whimper of pain.  
"How 'bout Tommy? Your old hero Tommy could be here, fucking you. That's all he wanted, an occasional bummin' in exchange for teaching you everything you know. But no, he had to hump your leg like a dog and be grateful for it. Why couldn't you just pretend? Why do you always have to be so selfish?"  
"You don't know about Tommy. I never told you any of that. I never told anyone."  
Howard opened his eyes. There was no comfort to be found in the recesses of his brain, he was better off in the cave.   
Twice he had been taken away from his parents' home and placed with Nan Moon. He knew how to make allies with a crazy person.  
"Old Gregg!" It was closer to a whisper than a shout but Gregg responded.  
"Yes, Howard?"  
"Don't let him do this."  
The Hitcher tightened his grip around Howard's throat. Howard went limp and when the Hitcher loosened his grip for a moment, he whimpered, "It should be you, Gregg. Not him, just. .." Stars filled his eyes as his head slammed against the cave wall.  
"What does Howard mean?"  
"'E's tryin' to turn ya against yer old man, Old Gregg," The Hitcher growled as he made another attempt to enter Howard, "Oi. He's tighter than yer ole mum's airhole."  
"I should only be with you, Greggory, I'm yours. Right?"   
"That's right," Old Gregg said, realization dawning on his face, "Howard belongs to Old Gregg. Let go of my fuzzy man love."  
Howard felt a hint of hope, "Save me, Greggory."  
"Oh, you crazy bastard! I'm bleeding like a stuck pig."  
"Old Gregg will stitch Father up but Father can't touch Howard. Howard is for Old Gregg."  
xxxx  
Howard's head was in Old Gregg's tutu covered lap, and he was being fed biscuits. He was going to survive a little while longer.  
He looked at the Hitcher, lying on a mattress and clutching his stomach wound.  
Vince needed to find him soon.  
If he's even looking for you.   
"Course, I'm lookin' for ya, Howard," Vince murmured into his ear as he stroked Howard's chest.  
Howard tensed and whispered, "Vince?"  
"Yeah, it's Vince! You forgotten me already? We been friends since we was little."  
"Since you were little," Howard corrected, "I was already a man."  
"I like it better when we're the same age," Vince purred as he pinched Howard's nipple. Howard could feel the hardness against his cheek and winced.  
Vince's hand moved to Howard's hair, "He'll leave you alone for a little while. He loves you. He'll kill you in a heartbeat but he loves you. Eat and get strong. You have to survive. I need time."  
"I never wanted to hurt you, Vince," Howard whispered, afraid of missing his chance. Afraid he was running out of time, "and if I did... I'm so sorry. I tried my best to look out for you."   
"All that stuff is in your head, Howard. You never done anything to me but be my friend," Vince whispered as his hand slid down over Howard's hardening cock, "Now you need to tell him you're too tired and you want to wait."  
"I'm too tired," Howard's voice was still raspy from the near strangling, "Please, give me more time. To convalesce."  
Vince's hand returned to his hair.   
xxx  
Howard was in his Zooniverse jacket, still sporting the stupid mustache that his precious Tommy told him to grow in order to look older. He looked normal except his eyelashes were wet. Howard, standing outside his classroom alongside the headmistress, with wet eyelashes.  
Vince turned on his heel and ran. He was slipping in his Chelsea boots and Howard caught him straight away, holding him and saying everything was going to be all right.  
xxx  
Sally's gun was taken away by Weezy's men as soon as they arrived. Then they were left in the lobby for an hour.  
She waved her hand in front of Vince's blank, blue eyes, "Yoo-hoo. Vince. Where'd you go?"  
Vince jumped, "Sorry. I was... What did you ask?"  
"I asked why you know Bryan Ferry."  
"He was a mate of my dad's. We used to go see him all the time. He was supposed to be my guardian if anything happened to my parents..."  
"Did something happen to your parents?" Sally asked, gently. Not daring to muss his now styled hair, she stroked his hand.  
"Dad had another heart attack when I was fifteen. He was driving at the time. They both died."  
Vince let himself be pulled into Sally's arms.  
"It was Howard that told me. He let me stay at his flat 'cause I couldn't handle going home that night. That's when I made my second move," Vince suddenly giggled, "Oh, you must think I was a freak!"  
Sally refused to be distracted by Vince's charm, "You must have been so upset and scared..."  
"I was crying in my room and he come in and sat on my bed, strokin' my hair and bangin' on about philosophy and all the crap he was learnin' from Tommy before Tommy went missin'."  
Sally let it go, she would not be distracted. "Did you try to kiss him?"  
Vince laughed again, "No, I went right for the meat and two veg, just like the last time. I didn't have the nerve to look at him. Oh, I was a shambles! I just wanted to feel good. I know it sounds horrible..."  
"It doesn't, Sweetie," Sally assured him. "I take it Howard didn't take advantage of the situation?"  
Vince's laugh was a little drier this time, "None of that for Howard. He just took my hand and held it. I remember he went all red but he didn't run away. I know he wanted to."  
"He cared about you, a lot."  
Vince tensed in her arms, "He did and I did everything I could to make him hate me."  
Sally could have screamed when Weezy chose that moment to let them into his room.


	10. Chapter 10

Vince soon realized Sally had been right about him needing a translator. Sally's non-regional, TV-ready accent must have come with her doctorate in environmental science. When she spoke to Lil' Wayne, her accent was as thick as his. He couldn't understand either of them. It was clear Sally was a fan, her normally placid expression was gone and she was giggling like a school girl.   
"I'm sorry, Vince," she said, as though sensing his thoughts, "I was just telling him how I've loved him since the Hot Boy$. I used to sneak out to see them at the Bounce clubs..."  
"Bounce?" Vince asked.  
Sally laughed and demonstrated by doing a dance that made her ample bottom vibrate at an alarming rate.  
Vince tried to imitate her causing Sally to burst into a fit of hysterical laughter but Vince thought he saw a little respect in Lil' Wayne's eyes.  
"He says you've got a lot of ass for a white girl," Sally explained before turning back to Weezy and explaining Vince was a man. Vince didn't understand the words but the accompanying hand gesture was hard to misread.  
Vince smiled at the confused- looking rapper and urged Sally to get to the point. He only understood a few words of what she said but he heard "funky merman" and saw the way Lil' Wayne cringed at the words. He got the distinct impression Weezy wasn't going to help them find Howard.  
"He says he doesn't want anything to do with that funky merman voodoo but he knows who can help us," Sally explained after a brief conversation, "We need to talk to Old Gregg's old boyfriend, Slash."  
xxx  
"You don't know me but my name is Dr. Sally Blanc and I need to track down a merman named Old Gregg. I know you've had troubles with him in the past and Bryan Ferry and Lil' Wayne..." Vince could see Sally was losing her confidence, Vince gave her free hand a squeeze, "They said you could help. We need your help. Please, our friend has been missing for a few days now and... I don't need to tell you how worried we are. Please. Please help us."  
Vince's eyes welled up a little at Sally's plea for someone she'd never met. He'd seen a sweetness in her even as she'd threatened him with pepper spray the first time he approached her. Vince didn't have a head for math or science or poetry but he could spot a well-hidden, kind heart from a mile away.  
Sally closed her phone and shrugged, "I guess we just have to wait."  
Vince gave her a quick hug before they started walking back to his hotel.   
Sally roughly wiped a tear from her eye, "So tell me more. You said you tried to make Howard hate you."  
Vince felt his cheeks darkening at the mention of "the five months". That's what they called it on the rare occasions Vince and Howard talked about that time. "The five months" between the death of Vince's parents and his sixteenth birthday.  
"I was fifteen and a half, so I only needed a guardian 'til I turned sixteen..."  
"You were on your own at sixteen?" Sally asked with surprise, "I was still doing laundry at my mom's house when I got my Ph.D."  
"I wasn't ever really on my own, but at sixteen I didn't need a guardian," Vince explained, feeling a bit queasy, "So Bryan and Howard worked it out that Howard would just move into my house and keep an eye on me and make sure I passed my exams and Bryan would take care of the money and legal stuff."  
Sally nodded, clearly seeing how it was a good plan and young Vince should have been grateful to have people looking out for him.  
"I went mental. I stopped going to school, started staying out all night. Drinking, sleeping around... I got a venereal disease and everything..." Vince laughed out of habit, "I wouldn't even take the antibiotics when I was supposed to, I fought Howard on every little thing. I brought people to the house once but he walked in and said, 'This is a fifteen-year-old child whose parents just died. Anyone with a scrap of humanity left should leave now. As for the rest of you, I'm calling the police,' and that cleared the room."  
Vince tried to laugh it off but Sally was looking at him with her big, understanding eyes.  
"He got me a part time job at the zoo and even though I loved it... I still wouldn't show up half the time. He'd end up having to cover for me. He'd come out to the clubs and find me, literally dragging me home. He was only twenty at the time but everyone thought he was me dad cause he was..." Vince blinked back tears. Howard had been an adult since he was in short pants; he never really had a childhood.  
"It's all right, Vince. Lots of kids act out. I was such a punk-ass at that age, I don't know why my parents didn't just feed me to the alligators." Sally's voice was so full of kindness, Vince wanted to wear it like a cape.  
"I came home all pissed one day and..." Vince cringed at the memory.  
"You made another move on him?" Sally offered.  
"C'mon, Howard. I know you wanna fuck me. Everyone wants to fuck me."  
"By then, he was just disgusted with me. It was horrible but I couldn't stop. I'd think that the next day I'd wake up and go back to being normal but..."  
"You were testing Howard, seeing if he really cared."  
Vince grabbed his head, trying to push the memories back, "He kept trying to talk to me about what I was going to do with my life and I kept thinkin' how I was gonna be so alone when he was gone... The morning I turned sixteen, he baked me a cake and..."  
Vince started crying. He could see the little cake with its blue and white frosting. A cake that Howard made, even though he hated cakes.  
"I went out and spent all the money Bryan sent me for my birthday on drugs - I just wanted to come home with my pockets stuffed full of drugs so that when he searched me..."  
Sally's face was filled with dread and she whispered, "Oh, no."  
"I just wanted him to hate me and sure enough, as soon as I come home, he's rootin' through my pockets and... he went all pale and I was laughin' and sayin' we should use it to bake up another cake since I threw the one he made in the garbage an' it would be like old times for him..."  
Sally was physically holding her mouth shut at that point.  
"And he opened a bag of X and dumped it in his mouth."  
Sally gasped, "I'm so sorry, Vince, please continue."  
"I was well scared. I tried pulling them out of his mouth and he started choking... I got most of them back but he was pretty messed up. I did my best to take care of him, makin' him drink water and playing the kind of music he liked. At one point, we was on the sofa an' he was lookin' at me and tellin' me how beautiful I was and how much he loved me and I knew I could... I knew he wouldn't say no if I tried it on."  
Sally waited patiently for him to continue, simply holding his hand as they walked.  
"I really fancied him, I always did. I thought about him when I was getting off with other people."  
"You've been in love with him for so long."  
Vince turned, buried his face in Sally's shoulder and wept in the middle of Bourbon Street where no one paid them any mind.  
xxx  
"Howard never gave up on you and we're never going to give up on him," Sally murmured into Vince's ear.  
Sally knew that if they didn't find Howard, she was going to have to pack up and move to England. She'd go work in a boutique and forget everything she knew about chemistry because there was no way she could ever leave Vince alone.   
xxx  
Howard opened his eyes and was greeted by a watercolor of himself getting raped by the Hitcher. He debated between laughing and crying and decided he was too tired for either.   
"G'mornin', sleepin' beauty," drawled the Hitcher, "Are ya feelin' convalesced yet?"  
Howard pulled his blanket up to his chin and looked for clothing. There was little point in being modest when he was surrounded by nude paintings of himself but he still didn't care for the feeling of being naked. The Hitcher was nursing a sizeable gut wound, but he didn't seem like the type who learned lessons from such experiences.  
"Where's Old Gregg?" Howard asked, hating the timidity in his voice.  
The Hitcher grinned, "Don't you worry, your husband ain't gone far. I'll bet you're lookin' forward to the weddin' night. I know I am."  
Howard closed his eyes and thought of Vince. Vince giggling as Bollo groomed his ridiculous hair, Vince gasping for breath after his first porpoise race, Vince spending hours personalizing his zoo uniform...  
"You ever had kids, Moon?" the Hitcher asked, in an almost conversational tone.  
Howard thought of "the five months", his big opportunity to prove he was nothing like his own parents. His chance to step up and do something important and a small chance to repay the kindness of the Noir family. The five months in which he turned the sweetest kid he'd ever met into an unrecognizable monster.  
"No. I don't think I'm suited for parenthood," Howard admitted. It felt good to say it out loud, even to a homicidal maniac.  
"Children are right fuckin' bastards. You better pray Old Greggory can't get knocked up or you are in for a right treat."  
Howard reached for a bottle of water and a packet of crisps. He was getting stronger. He had no idea how long he'd been in the cave. It could be days or months. He was getting more and more confused about what was a dream and what was reality. It seemed that reality involved him marrying a merman and having children.  
That couldn't be right.  
xxx  
Howard tried to fall asleep with Old Gregg spooning him but for the first time since eating the rancid fish, he was wide awake.  
He closed his eyes and concentrated, trying to imagine Vince, but the image wouldn't come. He thought of all the times Vince had reached out to him; inarticulately asking for love, comfort or friendship - and being turned away. Vince didn't belong in the cave, Howard did. His misanthropic life was coming to its logical conclusion.  
"What would you say to me, if I was there?" Vince asked, improbably perched at the foot of Howard's mattress.   
Howard couldn't meet his eyes.  
"I don't know what to say, Vince. I don't know if you're real."  
"Don't matter. I'm not sure 'bout all this either. It's well strange. I'd still like an answer. What would you say to me?"  
"I'd say that I love you and I'm sorry for all the times I let you down," Howard answered, "And that if I don't make it..."  
"Don't say that," Vince clutched the sides of his head.  
"That you oughtn't feel bad and I want you to be happy and enjoy your life."  
"I'm going to find you," Vince promised. "I got a sexy sidekick an' everything. I'm so close now."  
Old Gregg's hand started moving down Howard's chest and below his waist.  
"Help me, Vince," Howard whispered. Vince pressed a finger to his lips.  
"I always will, Howard. We're a team, right? You'n'me, forever."


	11. Chapter 11

Vince was on his third drink when Leroy asked the inevitable question.  
"Any resolutions, Vince?"  
"Yeah! I'm gonna be happy."  
"Vince, you're always happy!"  
"Happier, then."  
"How?"  
Vince thought about it and then he called a cab.  
xxx  
Howard was sitting on the sofa watching the telly with a glass of champagne.  
"Vince! What are you doing back? It's not even midnight yet. Are you ill?"  
Vince sat next to Howard and didn't ask Howard why he already had a second champagne flute next to him.   
"I just decided I wanted to be with you for the new year. Just you and me," Vince answered, honestly.  
Howard leaned away and furrowed his brow, "I don't get it. Where's the joke?"  
"I'm being serious, Howard. I want to spend more time with you this year."  
"We share a bedroom, Vince. We spend nearly every minute of the day together," Howard pointed out, keeping his tiny eyes on the telly. The countdown would be starting soon.  
Vince thought about it. Even sitting next to Howard now, he didn't feel like he was 'with' Howard. He grabbed the Northerner's big hand and held it. Howard shot him a befuddled look but he didn't pull away.   
They held hands as they counted in the New Year and clinked glasses. They held hands as Vince leaned over and kissed Howard on the lips, the way he'd done on the rooftop. Howard's glass fell to the ground and champagne splashed on Vince's jumpsuit.   
He considered just pushing Howard back on the couch and going down on him. He wanted to show Howard what he felt and didn't have words to express. It was the tickle of Howard's mustache in his nose that sparked a moment of clarity for Vince. Every time Vince made a move on Howard, he moved too fast. It was always Howard's first instinct to say no, to retreat in fear and assume everything that came at him was bad and dangerous. He needed time to adjust to something new.  
On the roof, Howard had gone from love to apparent indifference in the space of a few moments. He'd been ready to lose his virginity to some stranger minutes after declaring his love for Vince. It was less than an hour between his declaration of love and his screams for help. Lucky for Howard, Tony Harrison had the anti-funk, Fleetwood Mac's Tusk, on hand and they were able to chase Old Gregg out of the house. Even the pauses made Old Gregg cringe in agony. An hour and a shared bottle of champagne later, they were kissing on the bouncy castle. Howard was being wonderfully complacent in Vince's arms until he tried to get inside the Northerner's pants. It was too fast and Howard pulled away. He pulled away that night, and a week later he ran away to be an actor like he didn't know Vince was in love with him.  
Maybe he didn't know. Maybe he didn't understand, yet. Vince ended the kiss and went upstairs.   
The next day at dinner, Vince gave Howard the crispiest chips from his fish and chips. Normally he stole Howard's but now he was wooing Howard, one crispy chip at a time, until the big freak understood how much he meant to Vince. He gave Howard the fluffiest pancakes, used extra fabric softener on his clothes and made a tiny Topshop for Stationery Village so it would attract cool people and increase tourism. Howard laughed and sometimes he blushed at Vince's courtship. When Howard won the tickets to Mardi Gras, Vince patiently listened as Howard gave him a boring lecture on the history of the city and the celebration. He listened so closely, he actually understood what Howard was saying. On Mardi Gras, Catholics like to live it up so they get it out of their systems for Lent. It sounded smart. That's what Vince would do: he'd either get Howard, or get him out of his system.   
So he made his plan, he'd make his move on Fat Tuesday; and if Howard said no, he'd spend the next forty days getting over him.  
It was Sunday, Vince only had two days to go.  
xxx  
Howard ran his fingers through Vince's raven black hair as they kissed, the bouncy castle tossing them about every time they shifted their weight. It was going to happen. Vince was kissing him and stroking him through his corduroys.   
"This is where you ran away," Vince reminded him.  
"I'm sorry, Vince," Howard whispered, "I can explain but not now..."  
Vince opened Howard's trousers and pulled down his pants, taking Howard in his rough hand.  
"You don't have to explain," Vince said, gently, "You never have to explain yourself to me but you can tell me if you want."  
Howard felt tears welling, "Help me, Vince."  
"Don't be such a baby," Vince chided with a cheeky grin, "I'm gonna take care of you. I wouldn't hurt you. I just need you to relax and let me get you ready."  
Howard tensed as a knuckle was pressed inside.  
"Hurts," Howard whispered.  
"Say it out loud," Vince whispered, pressing his knuckle in deeper.  
"Hurts, please. Hurts."  
"There we go," Vince cooed as he coated Howard entrance with a thick cream, "It won't hurt now. Not if we take our time. Tell me if I go to fast."  
Howard wrapped his arms around Vince, feeling his boney back beneath his hands. He buried his face in black hair.  
"It's blond now," Vince corrected. The hair turned gold but it felt and smelled the same.  
"But it's my birthday party," Howard pointed out, looking around at the bouncy castle, "You just saved me from..."  
Howard gritted his teeth as Vince pushed inside.   
"I saved you from him then," Vince murmured as he thrust himself a little deeper, his hair was back to black, "And I'll save you now."  
If Vince was disappointed when Howard lost his erection, he didn't show it. He continued to stroke Howard all over his body and whisper kind words as he moved in and out.   
"I just want to make you feel good, Howard," Vince whispered. His thrusts were changing from long and deep to quick and a little erratic. It was almost over. "I love you, Howard. Please don't be hurt."  
When it was over, Vince held him tightly while Howard tried to stop shaking.  
"S'all right, Howard. You did good, you're okay. You're going to be okay."  
"I'm sorry, Vince."  
"Don't be sorry."  
"There's something wrong with me."  
"It's this place, Howard. It's not you."  
Howard flinched at the familiar phrasing. Vince was using his words against him.   
"I'm so sorry, Vince. I'm sorry about my birthday."  
"That was my fault," Vince whispered, "I moved too fast. It was my fault."  
"No, Vince. It's me. I... Tommy tried, but..."  
"Not Tommy!" Vince wailed, "Not that berk."  
"He wanted a... physical relationship, and I tried..."  
Vince kissed his shoulder, "Tommy were a freak, Howard. How was you supposed to get excited for that big head of his?"  
Howard smiled in spite of himself, Vince had always resented Tommy, though they had never met. Howard thought of Tommy, pressed behind him with a hand over Howard's flaccid cock, each encounter more painfully embarrassing than the last.  
"I couldn't. Ever. I could never..." Howard grasped for words to explain just how badly he'd failed his old mentor, "I don't know if I can. I saw things when I was young and they made me go wrong. I can't explain it."  
Vince snuggled into Howard's side, "You don't have to explain. It don't matter if we can't ever be together like that. I just need to be with you full stop. Don't matter to me if we never do more than snog. I'm just glad to be allowed touchin' you."  
Howard held Vince tightly until one dream world faded into another and he was back in Primary School, but a fully grown man and no one seemed to notice.  
xxx  
Vince woke with a start and woke Sally in the process.  
Vince blinked back tears as Sally fretted over him, asking what was wrong.  
"I had a dream," he explained, lamely, "I was dreaming about Howard."  
Sally sighed and stroked Vince's hair in a motherly way, "We'll find him, Sweetie."  
"I dreamt..." Vince debated on whether or not to continue, but Sally looked so reassuring and non-judgmental. She was wasting her time as a chemist, she should have a chat show.   
"I dreamt that I was with Howard... that I was..." Vince used a hand gesture to explain what he couldn't quite say.  
Sally smiled, "That's normal, Vince. You shouldn't be upset. We've been talking about your feelings for him..."   
"I don't think... I don't think he wanted what I was doing," Vince admitted, feeling queasy, "He wasn't hard or nothin' and he was... Why would I dream about doin' that to him when he's with Old Gregg and..."  
Vince bit his knuckle and tried not to cry.  
Sally held him tightly and the tears started to fall.  
"It's all right, Vince. It was just a dream. I know how much you love Howard. You had your chance to take advantage and you didn't, right? You don't have malicious bone in your body, Vince Noir."  
Vince hadn't told Sally the half of it. He was fairly sure Howard didn't remember the things he had said to Vince while under the influence of enough ecstasy to fuel a small rave. The confessions had come tumbling out of the young man's mouth. He told Vince he was a virgin and afraid he always would be, that he'd never be capable of intimacy. He said Vince had been the only person who didn't make him uncomfortable until he'd gone and hit puberty, and how much Howard missed sweet, little, non-threatening Vince.  
He said Vince confused him and made him feel ashamed.  
"I took care of him then. I worked his shift at the zoo the next day. I barely knew what I was doing but, the animals walked me through it..." Vince gave Sally a moment to be dubious and then remember that Vince really did talk to animals, "and I felt good. I felt good cause I helped Howard and was responsible. Things were different after that. We sold the house and shared a flat. Brian kept sending money but Howard would never take any of it. It all went to sending me back to school and then to college."  
Sally smiled, "So you had five months of teenage rebellion. That's not so bad."  
Vince forced a smile but he would never forget the look on Howard's face when he downed the bag of ecstasy. Instead of being angry at Vince like any normal person, Howard had turned it all in on himself. The only way he'd known to get through to Vince was to hurt himself as much as possible. Vince had spent the following decade trying to make things up to Howard, trying to be the sweet, little Vince that didn't make Howard feel uncomfortable.  
Vince snuggled into Sally the way he'd snuggled Howard in his dream and tried to think pleasant thoughts. Tomorrow morning, Slash's flight would arrive and they would surely find Howard. Vince would be extra good. No jokes about jazz or small eyes. No midnight barbering. He would just be sweet and nice and Howard would be fine. Whatever Howard was going through, Vince would make it better. It didn't matter how long it took because, Vince had nothing else on. All that mattered was Howard.


	12. Chapter 12

Slash looked exactly like Slash. He wore his stovepipe hat and skin-tight pants. His hair was full and moved like a living entity. Vince wanted to build a nest from Slash's hair; a big, soft nest for him and Howard.  
But first he had to find Howard.  
Slash wasted no time bringing out a small yellow box.  
"Are you looking for Old Gregg?" Slash asked as he fiddled with the yellow contraption.  
"Yes," Vince explained, "He has my best mate, Howard. He wanted to marry Howard before but Howard was able to get away."  
Between his hat, hair, sunglasses and stubble, there wasn't much "face" on Slash to read, but Vince detected a flash of concern.  
"How long has he been missing?" Slash asked without looking up from his device.  
"Five days," Sally answered while Vince was still thinking. It seemed like Howard had been gone for months.   
Vince could see Slash flinch behind his dark glasses. He was about to reach for Sally's hand but she was already twining her fingers into his. Apparently everyone knew five days with Old Gregg was Bad News. Vince felt queasy, but he was certain Howard was waiting to be rescued. He couldn't possibly be de-  
Vince refused to even think the word. Howard was waiting for him.  
"I managed to get Gregg tagged at a Velvet Revolver gig. He managed to get backstage looking like Diva Zappa and we tagged him before... The closer you get, the more accurate the reading," Slash explained, "I'm telling you now, I'm only willing to get so close to Old Gregg and I'm not handing this bad boy over. I'll get you within a few miles and then you're on your own."  
Vince joyfully threw his arms around Slash who shrank away, but not before Vince planted a kiss on his stubbled cheek.  
"Thanks, Slash. This is genius!"  
Slash grunted and tapped the screen of his tracking device. He tapped it again.  
"This reading doesn't make sense," Slash mumbled to himself, "What the fuck is going on..."  
Sally peered at the screen and her eyebrows raised as she mumbled to herself, "Holy shit."  
"What's going on?" Vince asked as he looked at the black screen with a small, flashing yellow light.  
"I'm not getting a reading on the location. It looks like a black hole," Slash explained.  
"That's because that swamp doesn't exist," Sally explained. "It's a legendary swamp and you won't find it on any map and if you don't know where to look, you'll never find it at all. That's where Howlin' Jimmy Jefferson lived and died and became immortal."  
Slash nearly dropped his Old Gregg tracking device, "Howlin' Jimmy Jefferson? The Spirit of Jazz?"  
"Ugh," Vince groaned, "Not that berk again! He is mental. I hope he ain't around, ‘cause he and Howard have some unresolved issues..."  
Vince stopped when he realized Sally and Slash were staring at him.  
"How are we supposed to find this swamp if it don't exist?" Vince asked, not wanting to discuss his run-ins with the Spirit of Jazz. He felt queasy at the memory of biting Howard's record. He'd been acting up, as usual, trying to get Howard's attention because he resented all the time Howard was suddenly spending with Lester Corncrake. Even as Vince felt guilty remembering Howard's distraught face as his prized possession was destroyed, he also felt warmed by the memory of Howard coming to his rescue. Howard loved Vince more than jazz.   
Vince loved Howard more than anything.  
Sally said she knew how to find the non-existent swamp, but she would need some help from a very old friend.  
xxx  
Sally was a woman of science, a rational person, but there was no way in hell she was heading into a voodoo swamp without leaving a gift for Marie Laveau first.  
She wasn't crazy.  
Sally took the charm bracelet from her arm and placed it in front of the crypt. Vince followed suit with his fuchsia scarf. Slash put down a flash drive with the latest Trombone Shorty cd.  
"Marie Laveau, ma'am," Sally began, awkwardly. She'd never done this with other people around before, "I know that you are the most powerful woman on the planet and if there is anyone who can help us, it's you. Please help us find Vince's friend, Howard Moon, before... before anything bad happens to him. Vince loves him a lot..."  
"I can't live without him," Vince whispered.  
Sally closed her eyes and tried to picture the Voodoo Priestess. She imagined her warm eyes, her elegant robes...  
"That hat is genius!" Vince cried, "You look amazin' for someone who’s been dead for a hundred years. What's your secret? I bet you moisturize."  
Sally opened her eyes and saw Marie Laveau, in the apparent flesh. Then she fainted.  
xxx  
Howard was wearing his own clothes. They smelled like soap and swamp water but at least he was covered. He was fully dressed but surrounded by nude portraits of himself. The most recent watercolor was apparently what Howard looked like from Old Gregg's perspective. It was obscene, humiliating and just plain ugly. Howard longed for one of Vince's strange and beautiful, childlike paintings. He preferred himself with a balloon for a head over a painting of himself being prepared for anal sex with a monster any day of the week.  
Not that he had any idea of the day of the week.  
The Hitcher looked up from his examination of a medical book he'd found among Old Gregg's strange and varied possessions. Howard wondered if he was reading up on anatomy or just getting off on the pictures.   
"Well, ain't that a site for me sore ole eyes?" the Hitcher observed as he examined Gregg's newest 'artwork', "I guess you been properly consummated, ain't that right, 'oward?"  
Howard wished he had more clothes to put on.  
"Howard and Old Gregg have only begun to make love times," Old Gregg explained as he shyly touched Howard's shoulder. When Howard flinched, Old Gregg let his hand drop. "Tonight, my fuzzy little man peach will take Old Gregg in his strong arms and make me his own."  
Howard suppressed a groan. He'd been wondering when Old Gregg's mangina would enter into the picture. He was as baffled as ever by what was going on under the merman's tutu. He'd refused to look in that direction and none of Gregg's self-portraits was graphic enough to explain the nature of his "downstairs mix-up". The glow was too bright and hypnotizing.  
Tonight, he was probably going to have to look.   
"I hope you'll be thoughtful enough to let yer ole man watch this time," the Hitcher purred, "I do 'ate to miss a good show. Do you put on a good show, 'oward?"  
Howard forced himself to look Old Gregg in the eye.  
"Don't let him watch," he whispered, hating himself for the desperation in his voice.   
xxx  
He could see Vince sprawled out on the mattress of their hotel, his black hair spread out on his pillow. He was naked and unbearably beautiful. The younger man spread his legs and ran his hand over his own pale chest.  
"It's time, Howard. You're finally going to fuck me. You've waited long enough," Vince said in a teasing voice. Howard stroked himself until he was fully hard. He was going to do this.  
"Isn't this nice?" Vince asked, "Me just being docile and helpless while you get your way? This is how you like me best."  
"You're hardly docile," Howard snapped, beginning to feel anxious. He used some salve to slip a finger inside of Vince who moaned lasciviously.  
"Mmm. All these years, you've kept me at your side with guilt over what I did as a teenager. Is that why you've never tried to fuck me? Because you know that would make us even and then I could move on?" Vince's face contorted in pleasure as Howard worked in a second finger.  
It was going wrong, again.

"Please, Vince. Just help me get through this. I can't do this on my own," Howard whispered. Even the thought of Vince disappearing was making him lose his erection.  
"Of course, Howard. Whatever you want. It's all about you," Vince sneered, "I'll be your blow-up doll and I'll rescue you and then I'll stay by your side forever because you'll be such a fucked up mess by the time I reach you..."  
"Don't do this, Vince. I can't make Old Gregg angry," Howard pleaded. He tried to picture sweet Vince smiling up at him...  
"Sweet Vince. That's the only Vince you like," Vince snapped, rolling his eyes, "I can't always be sweet. I'm a real person, not just your fantasy or your little ray of sunshine. I'm a real person and when I see what you've become... Are you sure you even want to be rescued?"  
Howard opened his eyes. He was on his own.  
His erection was gone but Old Gregg was moaning with every movement of Howard's fingers. Maybe it would be enough.  
He rubbed his thumb around until Old Gregg tensed and whimpered. Howard had seen some really graphic pornography growing up, his father often fell asleep with it still playing on the telly, but he could barely see Old Gregg's mangina through the glow. He was flying blind. Howard rubbed a gentle circle around what he assumed was Gregg's clitoris as the merman shamelessly rubbed himself into Howard's hand. It was strange. Howard was disgusted but being in a state of terror for days (weeks?) had left him nearly immune to horror. He had done so many terrible things already. Somehow, seeing Gregg's pleasure at his touch was almost endearing. Despite what dream-Vince seemed to think, Howard's fantasies about Vince had always been about making the younger man happy. Before love or lust or even friendship, Howard had felt protective of the wide-eyed wood nymph of a boy who tried so hard to make people happy. He could still remember those big blue eyes shining with tears as Vince reluctantly explained that he couldn't read because, "the words keep movin' about and I guess I can't read fast enough to catch them."  
Old Gregg had never stood a chance with the Hitcher as his father.  
Maybe Howard had never stood a chance either.  
"Oh, Howard," Vince sighed in his ear before resting his head on Howard's shoulder, "You're fine the way you are. I love you the way you are."  
"The way I was..."  
"Are. You might be a little more damaged but you're still my Howard," Vince said firmly. Howard looked at his shiny black hair...  
"It's blond now," Vince corrected and his hair changed accordingly. "We'll get through this together. You're doing so well."  
Howard slipped a third finger inside of Old Gregg while Vince wrapped his hand around Howard's free wrist. Vince guided Howard's hand to his flaccid cock. Howard gave himself a few half-hearted strokes but then Vince's hand wrapped around his.  
"C'mon, Howard, I want to get you hard," Vince whispered, "I've wanted you for so long."  
Howard focused on Vince's throaty commands and felt himself coming alive below the waist.  
"That's right, Howard, get hard for me because I want you," Vince cooed, "I want you inside of me, that's the only way we'll even be close enough. I just want to be close to you."  
"Thank you, Vince," Howard whispered as he reached full mast, "I need you so much..."  
"Shh, just enjoy it, Howard. Don't think about anything but me and how much I want you."  
Howard was gentle as he entered Old Gregg, Vince whispering in his ear the whole time. Old Gregg's sharp nails dug into his back and drew blood but Vince was there whispering, "You're making him feel so good, he can't help himself. You're so beautiful, why wouldn't he love you? I want to see your face when you come. I've always wanted to see you like this. I think about it all the time. You, hard and ready for me, being gentle because you'd be worried about me even as I ask you to fuck me harder..."  
As soon as it was over, the shame set in but Vince remained, promising to love him and find him. Old Gregg was there, too, snuggled into his side. Howard was too tired to try and squirm away. He was just relieved the Hitcher had been naive enough to drink Bailey's poured by Old Gregg and was unconscious for the foreseeable future.


	13. Chapter 13

Howard was looking at the wall of his childhood bedroom, trying to think about boring things so he could fall asleep. The room looked so much larger than he remembered.  
The mattress shifted beneath him, there was someone in his bed. Howard's panic quickly turned to confusion as the answer drifted into his head.  
It was just Howard. Seven foot tall, movie star (Errol Flynn came to mind) handsome, and brilliant to boot; all at the tender age of eighteen. Howard would have to check his photo albums, but he was fairly certain he had never been a chiseled god.  
He peeked over his shoulder and, sure enough, saw his eighteen-year-old self sleeping. His brain slowly worked through the confusing information. There was one too many Howards in this dream.  
He looked at his skinny fingers and then ran his hand through longish, blondish hair. He was in Vince's body. This was the infamous night. The night everything changed.  
Bloody hell. Howard was getting tortured enough in real life without his dreams going haywire as well. He tried to blink himself awake but dream-Howard was shifting beside him and he was suddenly engulfed in warmth. Dream-Howard had wrapped himself around Vince's small frame and there was an absurdly large erection pressed against Vince's rear-end.  
Howard didn't remember this happening and he certainly would have remembered something like this. Even as he felt annoyed, he could feel Vince's anxiety. He was also assaulted with a barrage of disturbing mental images of what a thirteen-year-old boy expected from gay sex.  
He could feel Vince's fear that it would hurt and that he'd make a fool of himself or disappoint his god-like version of Howard. He felt Vince's deep, if seriously misguided, fear that Howard would walk out of his life forever.  
Dream-Howard moaned and rubbed himself against Vince, his hand resting on Vince's stomach.  
He could feel Vince savoring of the touch and his eagerness to be held by dream-Howard. The thoughts made Howard sad. There really wasn't an appropriate way for an 18-year-old boy to hold a thirteen-year-old. He'd tried his best to be comforting, it just wasn't his strong suit. It still wasn't.  
He felt Vince's relief echo his own as dream-Howard rolled back to his side of the bed, but he also felt Vince's disappointment mixed with fear.  
Howard was able to keep the slight body from rolling over and trying to make things right with dream-Howard. He felt a flutter of panic but whispered, "It's all right, Vince. I'm just sleeping... I don't know what I'm doing. I don't want anything from you."  
He could feel Vince's hurt feelings. He tried again.  
"I don't know what's happening here, Vince, or why but... That lump next to you loves you. He loves you more than he's ever loved anyone, and he wouldn't do anything to hurt you right now. He'd happily take your father's place in the hospital if it meant you could go back to being a carefree kid for a little longer. He doesn't think of you... in that way... not yet. But he will, and it won't be easy for him. It's going to be really upsetting and confusing, actually, but he... I will always love you. I love you, Little Man, and I always will. I love you, Vince."  
He wants to keep talking, he wants to make Vince understand but there are sharp nails scraping his scalp and dragging him back to the waking world. He realizes too late that his final, "I love you, Vince," was said out loud. He braces himself for the inevitable. It doesn't occur to him to beg for his life anymore, he just waits for the pain to end.  
xxx  
Old Gregg hasn't quite gotten the hang of 'love' yet. A few times, he thought he'd found love but it turned out to be something else. Curly Jefferson wasn't love. Slash wasn't love - though he still made Old Gregg feel tingly. Old Gregg loved his father, that's why he kept the ornery bastard alive.  
He thought he felt love the first time he spied Howard bickering with his pretty lady man friend. He'd been ready to remove the lady man from the picture when he fortuitously chose to leave on his own, on a raft.   
And then Old Gregg had Howard all to himself, if only for a short time. The hours when Gregg believed the big Northerner was his one true love had been the happiest of his life. Howard was different from the others. While the others had screamed in terror, Howard had been calm and flippant. Even when threatened to be stuffed alive, Howard moved smoothly into the character of leading man without soaking his clothes through with sweat, unlike Slash.   
Even though Howard betrayed him by leaving, betrayed him by stealing the funk, and betrayed him by running back to his pretty little friend, Old Gregg did not want to kill Howard. For a while, Gregg thought that was love: the desire not to murder someone (instead of the indifference one normally feels).   
But now he knew there was more to love than not wanting someone dead.  
Howard had just said his pretty friend's name again. He said it sometimes in his sleep or during their love making times. It didn't make Old Gregg happy but it no longer filled him with blind rage.  
What Howard did during their times changed the world for Gregg. What he'd experienced of sex before had been angry and frightening but Howard was quiet and gentle. Gregg normally ignored his mangina in favor of his shenis. The shenis was much easier to operate. Nearly any kind of contact brought pleasure to the shenis. A sharp wind could bring pleasure to the shenis. He'd offered his mangina for Howard's pleasure because he knew Howard would want to feel like a strong man (as explained to him by his old man). He hadn't expected Howard to bring Gregg pleasure. Howard was surely in possession of some kind of ancient wisdom and Gregg wondered why he wasn't honored among the land dwellers for his skill. He had brought Gregg more pleasure with his thumb than Gregg had ever experienced before.  
Hearing Howard speak the other's name made Gregg jealous and angry and he did raise his hand to strike the unfaithful thoughts from his lover's head.  
But then Howard had trembled with fear, his hands raised over his face, trying to protect himself from Gregg's fist.  
Seeing Howard afraid made Gregg feel unhappy.  
"Stop being scared, Howard," Gregg ordered, "Old Gregg loves you."  
"I'm sorry Gregg," Howard whispered, his voice trembling as much as his hands.  
The Hitcher laughed and walked over. He ran his hand along Howard's bare thigh, "Nothing to be scared of, boy. We're going to take care of you just fine."  
Howard tried to keep a sheet over his body but Gregg's father was trying to touch him everywhere. Old Gregg knew his father coveted anything that was not his. It was just one of the character flaws Old Gregg had been able to identify in his father over the centuries.  
"Old Gregg, please, don't let him..." Howard whispered, softly. He was still shaking with fear.  
"Father knows not to make love times to Howard," Gregg said, trying to sound soothing as he ran his nails through Howard's hair, careful not to draw blood.   
"That's right, sonny boy," the Hitcher sneered, running a nail from Howard's testicles to his anus, "I'm not gonna try and make love to ya, Howard."  
Gregg liked to watch Howard squirm, his body was more sensitive than most humans, but the touching made Howard afraid. Old Gregg didn't like to see Howard afraid.  
Maybe that was love.   
Old Gregg used one arm to knock the Hitcher across the room, "Father is scaring Howard. Stay away."  
The Hitcher climbed to his feet, "Oi, the ingratitude! I raised you from a guppy when your mum abandoned you..."  
"Old Greggory is tired of that story. Perhaps father has a new one."  
"Perhaps I'll go for a walk, s'almost Mardi Gras. The streets'll be filled with brain dead and drunken tourists looking for a time they'll never remember. I'd 'ate to leave them disappointed," the Hitcher said, with a jaunty tip of his hat, "I'll leave the two of you in privacy."  
Old Gregg smiled at his father's generosity and turned his gaze to Howard. He watched the big man's body relax as Gregg's father left the cave.  
Old Gregg ran his hand over Howard's broad chest, "We're alone, my love."  
Howard looked worried so Gregg tried to be more gentle with his touch.  
xxx  
Sally woke up to find herself in the arms of that hairy guy from that band that did that song. And that other song that sounded just like it.  
That's right, she was on a mission with Slash.  
And the ghost of Marie Laveau.   
She had returned to New Orleans to study the effects of fracking, visit her family and get wasted for Mardi Gras. How had she been blown so far off course?  
Vince and Marie were deep in conversation. The Voodoo queen ran her hand along his sharp features and spoke too quietly for Sally to discern her words but Vince looked thoughtful. Then his face broke into one of his broad and disarming smiles. That's how she got blown off course, that irresistible smile.  
She and Slash watched as Marie took Vince's scarf from her "grave" and wound it around his head into a turban much like her own. Oddly enough, it suited him. It seemed as though all hats suited Vince.  
And then she was gone. Slash summed up Sally's feelings by whispering, "Holy fucking shit. Am I high?"  
xxx  
Sally navigated as Slash steered her boat. She was beautiful in her fierce concentration. Vince could imagine her working in a lab with beakers, only to suddenly release her wild curls from a bun as she yelled, "Eureka!" He could almost hear Howard lecturing him on getting all his understanding of science from bad horror movies. It was enough to bring tears to his eyes. He couldn't possibly miss an arm or a leg as much as he missed his Howard. When Howard had gone off to be an actor, Vince had waited impatiently for him to either return or call for Vince to join him. He never thought they would stay apart. Once Howard decided to leave the zoo with Vince, he'd felt confident that they would be a double act forever. Howard loved being a zoo keeper but he loved Vince more. Bollo had been all too willing to rough Howard up and make it look realistic that Howard had been over-powered rather than complicit in Bollo's "escape". They had all been prepared for Howard to balk at the plan, but instead, he took it all in stride.   
He only made one demand. Bollo had to kick Bob Fossil in the ass on the way out. Although Bollo and Howard rarely saw eye to eye, they seemed to be of one mind when it came to Fossil.  
Poor Fossil literally didn't know what hit him. He'd lost his tape recorder in the scuffle.  
Vince had been ready to move on before Naboo announced he was being "called" to take a familiar and had even considered leaving a few times, but not without Howard. Never without Howard.  
Sally cast him a sympathetic look and Vince forced a smile. People who had never met Howard were risking their lives to find him, the least he could do was not bring them down with his maudlin thoughts. He couldn't be positive but after one of Vince's mini-breakdowns, he was pretty sure he heard Slash calling Axl on his mobile, just to say hi.   
"Now, what exactly did Marie say about Howlin' Jimmy Jefferson?" Sally asked.  
"She said he moved out of his swamp because he was afraid of a turtle from outer space," Vince explained.  
Again.  
"You're absolutely sure she said turtle?" Sally asked.  
Again.  
"Yes."  
"From outer space?"  
"Yes."  
Sally turned back to her charts.  
xxx  
Vince wasn't asleep, but he wasn't awake either. He could feel the rocking of the boat, he could smell the swamp water. He could also see Howard, naked except for a thin sheet. Marie said these "dream walks" were a gift, similar to bi-location. She said love was the second most powerful force in the human world, the first being (obviously) Marie Laveau.   
"Howard, we're coming to save you! I just need to find a turtle from outer space and we'll be all set."  
Howard frowned, "Not the Star Turtle."  
"Yeah! That's the one! He's gonna help us. I think. Marie Laveau said he scared the Spirit of Jazz out of the Black Swamp and..."  
"Vince?"  
"Yeah, Howard?"  
Howard took Vince's hand and pulled it to his face. He didn't look at Vince, he just stared at the ceiling but his sheet was gone.  
Vince gave Howard a chaste kiss on the forehead, "S'all right, Howard. I'm here now and we're going to get you through this."  
He could almost feel Howard's fear. Fears. Howard was afraid of so many things.  
"C'mon, Howard! You've been to hell and back! You'll be okay. I won't let you not be okay," Vince promised before he began trailing kisses down Howard's stomach. It had been a long time since he'd been with a man, hazy dreams aside, but nothing could have been more natural than taking Howard into his mouth, using his hands to stroke every available inch of his big, warm, swamp-smelling body. The swamp smell was putting him off a bit but, everything else was pure Howard. The man he'd loved since he was child. Big, strong, brainy...  
Weak, fearful, old before his time...  
Howard's thoughts were echoing in Vince's brain.  
Handsome, brave, kind... Vince thought, scrunching his forehead with the effort of trying to drown out the negative voice.  
Broken, scared, insane...   
Beautiful.  
Unworthy...  
Never!  
Vince tried to show Howard with his thoughts and with his hands and with his mouth just how much he cared. Once Howard managed to orgasm, Vince whispered loving nonsense into his ear as Old Gregg held his pet tightly. He could see Old Gregg as clear as day. He was encouraged by the gentleness in Old Gregg's touch. He'd seemed much more frightening in the earlier dreams. Now Gregg was looking at Howard with less crazed possessiveness. He looked loving. Vince saw a twisted version of his own love reflected in strangely familiar eyes.


	14. Chapter 14

It took some convincing but Slash came around and was singing "Sweet Child'O'Mine", complete with singing out his guitar solos.

"Sweet child of my-ye-yine..."

Vince was meant to stay asleep so he could keep track of Howard and Old Gregg. He couldn't see Howard, though. All he could see was the back of his eyelids.

xxx

That part of the male brain that sometimes does, but often does not, wake up him up before he comes in his pants had just kicked in and Vince was sitting up in bed.

He batted away the hand that was on him. Strange and upsetting images flooded Vince's brain, telling him why he needed to be afraid of people in his bedroom. He remembered Nan Moon screaming at him and dragging him out of bed to clean some imaginary "filth" that only she could see. He could feel Howard's mum holding him and crying and talking about all the reasons she hated her life and how she would kill herself if weren't for him. There was some creepy guy asking Howard if he liked candy until Howard screamed for his mother, leading to another night of his mother's hysterical crying - this time about how she was a terrible mum and couldn't take care of him properly.

And now, it was a golden haired imp, staring at him with huge, blue eyes full of fear. Vince recognized himself but he knew his hair had never been so golden, it had always been dirty blond. He'd certainly never been so cherubic, he'd always been skinny and pointy. Even as an infant, he'd had a sort of boney charm rather than chubby cheeks.

New, horrible thoughts assaulted Vince. Shame smothered his already tenuous grasp on reason. All he could feel was hostility coming at him from every direction.

Monster! Freak! Paedophile!

Vince wanted to cover his ears and block out the hateful words but he couldn't seem to move his hands. 

He looked down at the big Northern mits in his lap. They certainly weren't his hands. He could never work a sewing machine with those giant hands.

He tried to sort through the thoughts surrounding him and come up with something coherent, something to help him get sorted.

Why would I hurt Vince?

"You didn't hurt Vince. He's fine," Vince yelled, trying to be heard over the din, "I don't understand where all this is coming from. You just play some Bowie and I'm back to sleep, a little embarrassed but fine. You never done nothing to me."

He scared. He's trapped here.

"He's scared because he realized you was just sleeping. He thought you was... He has a big crush on you, that's all. He's just a kid," Vince explained, feeling embarrassed for his younger self. The horrible thoughts didn't stop, but they slowed down and Vince could breath.

The dream or memory or whatever it was began to progress as usual and soon little Vince was sleeping peacefully while Howard worried about what would happen when Vince told his parents. Would they ever believe Howard hadn't meant something untoward? He'd only meant to keep Vince safe from his personal house of horrors. He tended to forget Vince was growing up.

"That's cause I never really grow up, do I? I just get taller."

What if they pressed charges? 

Vince's heart was pounding with Howard's increasing anxiety.

He would never see Vince again. The thought seemed so much more upsetting than going to gaol as a pervert.

"You really love me, don't you?" Vince asks as he sees himself through young Howard's eyes. He'd always assumed Howard was fond of him as a child but he's surprised how much the older boy cared before Vince really had anything to offer. He was too young to really be a friend and Howard wasn't attracted to him yet...

You're so sweet and cute, like a kitten dressed as a puppy.

"Oi, that's a bit much, dontcha think? I'm a bit weird looking..."

You sing to yourself even when other people are around and you try to make me sing, too, and you painted a pencil case for me when I started university.

"You never used it! No way."

I kept it on my desk in every class. I liked when people asked about it and the drawings on the covers of my notebooks.

Vince had forgotten those. He'd forgotten how indulgent Howard had been in those days. He even let Vince decorate a pair of his shoes.

Your drawings make me smile. Before I met you, I hardly ever smiled. I won't smile again if...

"S'all turns out fine, you can relax. Mum understands everything and tells me I have to behave so I don't cause trouble for you."

A deep, Howardy chuckle erupts and suddenly turns into a sob and Vince is hit by a wave of sadness. Poor Howard doesn't understand how families are supposed to work. He'll always be surprised by acceptance.

There's a cold hand on Howard's shoulder and the world gets blurry.

xxx

Howard's eyes snap open and the Hitcher is standing over him. He searches for Gregg with his eyes.

"'e's not 'ere, my boy. 'e'll be gone for awhile. It's just you and me."

Long nails dug into Howard's chin as his face was pulled nose to nose with the Hitcher.

"Where's he gone?" Howard asked, trying to keep his voice light, "Did he pop out to hit a shop..."

Howard was suddenly on the floor and the Hitcher was opening his trousers.

Vince, help me, Vince. I can't do this. I can't.

"So don't do it," Vince suggested. He was standing in front of Howard: long, lean, pale and naked.

"I don't know how to escape. Where they go, it's just rock. I can't figure out how they get out..."

A hand was pulling him by the hair.

"At least fight, ya know?" Vince continued with a toss of his black hair, "Don't just give in all the time. Have some self-respect. Is the word no even in your vocabulary?"

"He'll kill me."

Vince's voice is gentle and tender as he says, "Don't you think that might be for the best? Do you really want me to find you like this? Spend the rest of my life taking care of you, knowing the truth about you?"

The first slap knocked Howard back to the ground.

"Good for you, Howard!" Vince yelled, his face lit up with a grin, "Yer finally showing some backbone!"

xxx

Vince crashed to the floor of the boat. Sally was screaming and had her gun drawn.

Slash was gone.

"Oh my god! It was a monster, he grabbed Slash, I didn't even have time... Holy fuck, Vince. This is real. This is fucking really happening."

Vince wrapped his arms around Sally, carefully avoiding the gun she had pointed at the water where Slash must have disappeared. 

"We gotta be close, right?" Vince said as he patted Sally's big, fluffy hair, "We're almost there. We just gotta find this Star Turtle..."

"How are you so calm? There's a fucking sea monster in this water..."

"These things happen to me'n'Howard all the time. You just learn to go with it, really. Howard just woke up so he's..."

If Old Gregg was busy grabbing Slash, he must not have been the one to wake up Howard. Vince's stomach twisted at the thought but he couldn't start panicking now. They were so close.

Hang on, Howard. Just stay alive and I'll be there soon, he thought as hard as he could.

Vince grabbed the bass Slash had brought along to call the Star Turtle and turned to his sexy sidekick.

"You know how to play one of these things?"

"I played bass in a environmental activist lesbian funk group in college," Sally said as she took the bass in her shaking hands.

"Where you any good?"

"God, no. We were horrible but I learned a few licks."

xxx

Vince screwed his eyes shut and focused on the funky bass line, trying to bring Howard into focus.

Come on, Howard. Help me out here. Reach back.

Nothing but the back of his eyelids. Howard needed to fall asleep, pass out or...

Reach back, Howard!

Nothing. Howard was either awake and doing perfectly well, on his own with the Hitcher or...

Stop talking to that horrible Vince! Listen to me! I'm real, not him! He's a jerk.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Vince?

It was whispery and weak but it was Howard.

xxx

As soon as Howard lost consciousness, Vince was there.

"You! Out! We don't need you," Vince barked at the black haired Vince, "You're horrible and I ain't that pointy!"

The Hitcher was staring at Howard, a pocket knife in hand.

"This is going to cause me some discomfiture with m'boy," he mused, fiddling with the knife as he examined Howard's prone form, "Might be easier ta explain yer complete absence than yer current state."

Vince plucked the knife out of the Hitcher's hand.

"Look, Howard, it worked! This is well cool! All right."

Vince smiled as he held the knife up for Howard's appreciation.

"Be careful, Vince!" Howard whispered but that was not a word in Vince's vocabulary.

The Hitcher covered his non-Polo eye and surveyed the room. He ended up looking vaguely in Vince's direction.

"He sees you!" Howard hissed, "Get out of here!"

"Now what might you be?" the Hitcher asked, moving towards Vince.

"Vince Noir, Rock'n'roll star," Vince answered with his normal conviviality, "And I just need to rescue my friend. We can keep Old Gregg right out of this..."

"Noir? The boney fella with the big, blue peepers?"

"I prefer to think of myself as having strong features..."

"Welcome home, m'boy," the Hitcher said with a syrupy sweet smile.

"Thanks, it's nice to be... What? I never been here before," Vince said, backing away from the green menace.

"I don't know the French word for swamp but I know what Noir means. Yer right where you belong, m'boy! Here is the Black Swamp." 

Howard should have gone along with whatever the Hitcher wanted. He'd be in pain but he'd be able to stand up, able to help Vince instead of being completely useless.

"S'all right, Howard," Vince said without looking away from the Hitcher, "He can't hurt me. I'm not really here."

"You're holding that knife, ain't ya, boy?" the Hitcher sneered, "You're real enough."


	15. Chapter 15

Sally's fingers were already sore, she hadn't played in ages, but things were getting desperate. She'd played nearly every bass run she could remember and there was still no sign of life in the water. Vince was on the floor of the boat, talking to himself, and somewhere Slash was trapped with a transsexual merman with abandonment issues. She needed help.

As she often did in times of stress, she turned to Chaka Khan.

"You ain't got no kind of feeling insi-i-i-ide," she sang with more feeling than skil, "I got something that'll sure 'nough set your stuff on fi-i-i-ire..."

If the Star Turtle didn't like "Tell Me Something Good", he was surely a dick and incapable of helping them anyway.

"Mmmm, Chaka Khan."

The voice was deep and strange. Sally nearly beat the intruder with her bass before realizing it was just a talking turtle. 

Just a talking turtle. This was her life now.

"Are you really the Star Turtle? From outer space?" she asked, not caring how foolish she sounded.

"You know it, baby, the one and only."

"And you met Harry Connick Jr.?"

"You know I did. He showed me the best of New Orleans jazz."

"What did you think of his album about you?"

The Star Turtle squatted the thick legs resting on the edge of the boat in what seemed to be a turtle equivalent of a shrug, "I thought it was a solid effort."

Sally smiled, this had to be the real thing.

"There is apparently a merman..."

"The funky sea transsexual?'

"Yes, him and his father..."

"The Hoxton Rapist?"

"I suppose... Anyway, they've got my friend," she pointed at Vince who was mumbling and holding out his hand as though he were holding something, "Well, they have his friend, Howard, and now they've got Slash. Do you know Guns'n'Roses?"

The Star Turtle nodded, "I thought I saw the merman swimming by with some breathing seaweed. That might have been Slash."

"Can you help us find them?"

The turtle looked as puzzled as a turtle could look with his naturally wizened face, "I can take you to their cave but they don't take kindly to visitors. Least not for long."

Sally refused to think about what the turtle meant. All that mattered was they finally knew where they were going.

"Why isn't that one green?" the turtle asked, looking at Vince with interest.

"What? No, he's human, he's just... caught up in some Voo-Doo thing, I don't know what it is exactly..."

"The merman and his father are green."

"He's got nothing to do with them, they have his friend."

The turtle nodded, "He looks like one of them but then, all humans look a bit alike to me. No offense. It's just hard to tell you apart when you don't bring your houses with you."

"No offense taken," Sally assured the turtle, "Please help us find our friends."

xxx

Howard could see everything but his body remained unconscious. What he had attributed to a simple descent into insanity was now starting to seem like something real.

"Vince, I can't move," Howard whispered. 

"You're unconscious and you got a ton of blood on your face. If I couldn't see you breathin', I would be well scared right now," Vince explained as he warily moved about the cave, holding the Hitcher's knife, "I'm a bit scared now." 

"Why can you hear me?" Howard asked.

The Hitcher glanced in Howard's direction, still covering his non-Polo peeper.

"What in the name of all that's evil is goin' on 'ere?"

"None of your business, ya berk! Now let me'n'Howard go or I'll stab you up," Vince snapped with a threatening jab of his knife.

"Oh!" laughed the Hitcher, "A boy made of sunshine's gonna give me a stabbin'! I don't know what branch of the Noir family yer from boy but it ain't the stabbin' branch. You ever killed some'in, little boy?"

"No," Vince said with his compulsive honesty, "but no one's ever hurt Howard this bad before, neither."

"Vince, don't get yourself killed," Howard pleaded, "He's pure, liquid evil, eh? You can't fight him."

"Howard, you watch the wrong kind of movies," Vince said with an unusually thoughtful tone, "We're the good guys."

Howard didn't bother pointing out his own moral relativism because Vince clearly was the good guy. Even at his worst and most selfish, Vince didn't have a malicious bone in his body. He just didn't think before (during or after) he spoke. He lived in the moment and it was part of his impish charm. Why it never got him killed was anybody's guess.

The Hitcher was circling Vince, coming between him and Howard.

"I can smell the Voo-Doo on you, boy," the Hitcher snarled, "I ain't afraid of charms and chicken bones."

"Gross! I don't have chicken bones! I do have this packet of gris-gris that Marie Laveau give me..."

As Vince held out the small packet he'd kept in his boot, the Hitcher stepped backwards and tripped over Howard's unconscious body.

"Oi! Get off of Howard! You done enough damage!" Vince yelled, his eyes quickly glancing at and away from Old Gregg's watercolors. The black haired Vince had a point. As much as Howard didn't want to actually die, he was not looking forward to living with Vince after being rescued. His hopes of altering the story to make it more palatable for everyone had rather relied on no one seeing graphic water colors of his ordeal (compete with terrible perspective technique and half-assed cross-hatching).

But he still wanted to survive. He still believed he had something to give.

The Hitcher made a big show of apologizing to Howard's unconscious form, being downright solicitatious before pulling a bolo knife out of his boot.

"No, I 'ave done quite a bit of stabbin' in my time, sonny boy. D'ja really want to go toe-to-toe with me?"

"Go, Vince! Go back to where you're safe!" Howard yelled. The Hitcher turned slightly. Though his actual eyes were closed, Howard could see the suspicious stare the Hitcher was giving his nearly lifeless body. He clearly knew something was happening but couldn't quite get a handle on what.

"I ain't leavin' you, Howard! No way am I leavin' you!" Vince cried before disappearing.

xxx

Vince's eyes shot open as he landed in the cold water. Sally had him around the waist and he was still holding a pocket knife.

"You found the Star Turtle!" Vince yelled, "All right! We gotta get to Howard quick fast. The Hitcher is there and... and Howard's hurt real bad."

"Don't worry, brother," assured the Star Turtle, "Just take a breath and hold on tight."

Vince did as he was told, gripping the shell tightly as the turtle slipped under water. The slow moving turtle was gone, replaced by an Olympic swimmer. It was a job to hold onto his shell as he tore through the inky blackness of the swamp. Just as Vince thought he was going to pass out from lack of oxygen, they surfaced.

"We're almost there," the turtle announced, "Take a deep breath."

Vince and Sally did as the were told and the three plunge back into the darkness of the swamp.

"Where's the entrance?" the Star Turtle asked.

Vince looked at the wall of stone.

"I know you can see it, Vince. Show us the door," the Turtle rumbled.

He could see it. Why hadn't he noticed the glow before?

xxx

Howard was losing track of time. He could have sworn he'd been conscious since Vince had disappeared and yet, he did not witness the arrival of a breathing heap of seaweed.

"Howard," Howard jumped at the sounded of Old Gregg's voice, "This is Slash. He and Old Gregg were in love but Slash ran away. Slash and Old Gregg have matching tracking devices."

"Oh, fuck," the seaweed moaned, "You had me tagged, too?"

"Of course, Slash. Slash was the first man to give Old Gregg jewelry, he had it shot into my back, but Old Gregg has moved on."

Old Gregg gave Howard a loving stare.

"Where's your old man?" Howard asked in a carefully neutral tone.

"He was touching Howard without Old Gregg's permission. He's going to need to rest for a while."

Howard nearly smiled. The Hitcher was reaping what he'd sown in rather a literal way. 

"Old Gregg and Slash need to talk and Howard needs to rest. Old Gregg will put Howard in the pantry with father, where it's quiet."

Howard pleaded but Old Gregg shushed him in a way that left no room for argument. Howard soon found himself on a thin mattress on the floor of the small 'pantry'/ alcove with a wooden door. He was only feet away from the unconscious Hitcher and surrounded by hundreds of bottles of Bailey's.

He desperately tried to remain alert but he'd lost a lot of blood and it wasn't long before his eyes were drifting shut.

xxx

"Howard! Howard!"

Howard blinked up at Vince, there was just enough light peeking under the pantry door to let him see Vince's golden blond hair dangling in Howard's face.

He was trapped in a pantry with the Hitcher and Vince was kneeling over him. Howard closed his eyes and grabbed Vince by the shoulders. Whatever was about to happen, he was in no shape to face it.

"I can't be brave, Vince. I can't, I'm sorry. Please help."

He pressed his lips to Vince's but the younger man was pulling away.

"No, Vince, please..." Howard held him tightly but the Vince was still wriggling free, "I need you. I'm sorry, I do. Please don't leave me."

"S'all right, Howard, I'm here to save you," Vince said with a smile, his eyes never meeting Howard's.

Howard ran his fingers through soft yellow hair, "Thank you, Vince. I love you so much."

Vince smiled sweetly but still pulled away when Howard tried for another kiss. Howard was beginning to feel anxious, blond Vince was supposed to be the loving Vince.

He tried to sit up but a pain in his ribs sent him crashing back to the floor.

"Vince, I'm too weak for this. Just... please be sweet," Howard ran a hand along Vince's jaw line, "Just be beautiful and kind and... just be sweet to me a little longer. All right?"

Vince had tears in his eyes, "S'okay, Howard. It's all going to be okay, now. Can you stand?"

Howard staggered to his feet with Vince's help, "What's happening, Vince? I don't understand."

"I'm saving you, Howard," Vince repeated, pulling Howard's arm around his slim shoulders.

"You're always saving me. I'm sorry. I'm sorry you always have to save me," Howard leaned heavily on Vince as he was pulled along, now a literal burden on the young man. Black-haired Vince's words were ringing in his ears. What would become of Vince if he found Howard? What kind of life would he have tied to a broken shell of man like Howard?

Vince gave him a quick kiss, just barely hitting Howard's lips, before looking away, "We save each other, Howard."

"What's going to happen to me, now?" Howard asked, his tremulously. He despised the weakness in his own voice but Vince remained gentle and free of scorn.

"You're going to be fine. I'm going to make sure of it," Vince promised.

Vince swung open the door of the pantry to reveal a soaking wet woman holding a gun wrapped in a plastic bag. 

Vince's sexy sidekick. 

"Is this... real?" Howard asked, turning to get a proper look at Vince.

Vince was soaked to the bone, his blond hair hanging lankly around his face which bore no sign of make-up. His nose was slightly freckled and there was a slight scar near his hairline from his Nicky Clarke hot iron. Dream Vince was always glossy magazine perfect, an idealized picture of perfection.

And he never smelled like a petting zoo.

He was really being rescued.

The world went black again.


	16. Chapter 16

Old Gregg was huddled over Slash, hissing like a cat. He was infinitely more frightening in person than in Vince's drawings. Meanwhile, Vince was struggling to keep the unconscious Howard from collapsing to the floor. Sally felt sickened by the amount of visible, physical damage that had been done to Howard in only a few days. She had seen dozens of pictures and drawings of Howard. Vince was constantly showing them to people and animals in hopes of a lead but then he also just sat and looked at them whenever there was a quiet moment. There had been varying degrees of unkemptness but each picture had featured a handsome man with a mustache and a mixture of affection and annoyance in his warm, narrow eyes. 

The right side of Howard's face was swollen, and there were two lines of stitches on his forehead. His lip was clearly split under his mustache and five day stubble. He was covered in bruises and scratches. He was also naked.

"I've got dry clothes in the boat, Vince," Sally said without looking away from Old Gregg, "We just need something to get him through until then."

She could see Vince out of the corner of her eye, struggling to gently place Howard on the pile of thin mattresses on the ground. Eventually, the two of them just collapsed with a thud. 

"Listen here, mother licker," Sally declared, something about Old Gregg was bringing out the Foxy Brown in her, "I'm leaving here with Howard and Slash. Now, if you want, I'll leave a few bullets behind - in your skull- or you can just stand back and I'll leave you in peace."

"Howard belongs with Old Gregg..." the merman began.

"No!" Vince yelled, "He belongs with me! He's always belonged with me. I would never... Look at what you did to him."

Old Gregg looked a little less feral as he watched Vince trying to put a beige suit on Howard's unconscious body.

"Old Gregg is still learning how to take care of Howard..."

"Yeah? Well, it looks like you beat the shit out of him," Sally snapped, "And you're not getting a second chance so hands in the air or get shot between the eyes. Your choice, brother."

"Don't shoot him."

Sally turned for a second at the unfamiliar voice and Old Gregg made a run for Howard, but shot in the leg brought him to a halt. He lay on the ground hissing but didn't seem overly troubled by the bullet in his body. He was reacting like he'd stubbed his toe.

Howard was awake and fumbling to button his own shirt while Vince hovered, not quite touching Howard but ready to catch him if he fell.

"Old Gregg," Howard said in a deep but gentle voice, "I know you don't understand... You need to try and find someone you can love and not kill. Maybe a shark?"

"The human is right," the Star Turtle added with a rumble, "Humans have thin skin and tiny bones they only cover with a bit of squishy fat. They can't handle your funky sea lovin'. You need to let these humans go."

Old Gregg was looking at Howard with sorrowful eyes, "But what about the Love Times, Howard? Old Gregg and Howard..."

"I don't want to see you dead, Old Gregg. That's the extent of my emotional investment here. You need to let Slash get back to doing... whatever it is he does and you need to let me live my life in peace. If you can promise you'll leave me be, no one will hurt you."

"Is that really a good idea, Howard? I mean, he did lure us to another country with a rather complicated plot..." Vince offered with trepidation.

"Promise me, Old Gregg and I will believe you."

Old Gregg's blue eyes were filled with such sadness, Sally nearly lowered her gun. 

Nearly.

"But Old Gregg loves Howard."

Howard sighed, "I know. I'm sorry but I love someone else. It's not fair but that's how life is sometimes."

Old Gregg and Vince glared at one another and Sally could suddenly understand why the Star Turtle thought they were of the same ilk. Vince was a kitten to Old Gregg's tiger but they both looked ready to bare their claws.

"Can Old Gregg give Howard one last kiss before he leaves?" Old Gregg asked in a tiny voice.

"No," Howard said in a gentle but firm tone, "and if you take one step towards me, that young lady is going to shoot you in the face. Good bye, Old Gregg."

xxx

Once they managed to climb back into the boat with the help of the Star Turtle, Sally grabbed the blankets and track suits she kept stocked in her boat for emergencies. The Star Turtle promised to follow them and make sure they got to land without any unwanted company.

"Okay, guys. Hypothermia is a serious risk here. Everyone needs to strip completely, put on dry clothes and wrap up tight..." Sally drifted off as she watched Howard's face. He was practically radiating pain. 

"But," Sally continued, "I didn't sign up to be a lesbian so I could look at a bunch of shriveled white penises so let's work out a privacy system."

They took turns holding up blankets until they were all huddled in their track suits and burlap blankets. They looked like a group of shipwrecked mobsters.

No one said a word as Sally steered them back towards land. It was so quiet, Sally could hear Vince's teeth chattering.

"Are you all right, Vince?" Sally asked, "Do you need some more heat packs?"

"I'm f-f-f-fine," was Vince's unconvincing response.

"Here, Little Man," Howard said softly, holding his blanket open, "I told you the GI diet was a bad idea. A person needs some body fat."

Vince carefully snuggled into Howard's side, "Cheers, Howard."

There were a few more minutes of silence before Vince began sobbing.

"Hey, Little Man," Howard whispered, "It's all right, yeah? Everything is going to be fine now."

Vince snuffled and nodded, "Yeah, Howard. Everything's gonna be fine, cause you're back and I'm not leaving you alone for a second. I'll be at your jazzercise classes, hanging out with Lester Cornflakes, shopping at the Geography Teacher's Clothing Emporium..."

Howard chuckled then grimaced in pain. 

"Oh, Howard," Vince sighed, carefully resting his head on Howard's shoulder, "thanks for warming me up."

Howard tentatively pressed his lips to Vince's wet hair, "Any time, Little Man. Thanks for saving me. Again."

"We save each other," Vince corrected, "We're a double act, right?"

"That's right," Howard agreed flatly, his face suddenly devoid of expression.

"Hey, Howard?

"Yeah?"

"I met Lil' Wayne."

Sally blamed the slight nip in the air for the fact her eyes wouldn't stop watering.

xxx

Once they were off the boat, Howard seemed a million miles away. Vince wanted to snuggle Howard but there didn't seem to be a part of the big man that wasn't covered in bruises and while Howard hadn't said the words - "Don't touch me" was writ loud and clear on his face and in his body language.

Slash was picked up in a limo filled with cartoonishly large men that Vince assumed were his new body guards. Sally walked Vince and Howard to their hotel room and offered to sleep on the floor, with her gun, but Howard insisted they were fine. Vince gave Sally a tight hug, at a loss for words to express his gratitude, but she seemed to understand. From day one, Sally had understood everything.

"So... that's your sexy side kick?" Howard asked after she left, his smile not reaching his eyes.

"Yeah, she's genius, Howard! She helped me out every step of the way. I don't know what I would have done without her," even as Vince gushed, his stomach knotted at the very thought. Without Sally, it would have taken even longer to find Howard and it had taken so long.

Howard nodded as he stiffly tried to pull clothes out of his suitcase.

"Hey, Howard, let me get the shower going for you," Vince offered. Watercolors kept popping up in his brain no matter how hard he tried to forget what he'd seen. Howard surely wanted a shower.

"You go first," Howard suggested, gingerly sitting on his bed, "You're the one nearly freezing. You're still shivering like a Chihuahua without a pretentious sweater."

"We'll shower together! It'll be like that time the monkeys tried to form a rebellion and they were throwing their shit at us..." Vince slapped his hand over his mouth, realizing what he'd just suggested. Howard's face was neutral but he was digging his fingers into his own thighs so hard, Vince was sure he was leaving bruises.

"I didn't mean anything, Howard," Vince explained, staring at the bright orange water shoes Sally had given him to wear, "I'm not trying to be funny or act up..."

"I know, Vince," Howard said, cutting him off, "I... I'm a little unsteady on my feet. It might be best if you were there..."

Howard was blushing from his toes to his hairline, reminding Vince again of those god awful water colors. Even in the cave, Vince had wondered how Gregg could draw Howard in such loving (if unskilled) detail and not see how much it hurt Howard to have his privacy invaded in such a blatant manner. Howard, who wore stripy pajamas to bed and a bathrobe when he took a shower, had been mortified by the loincloth he'd been forced to wear on Xooberon. Vince's attempts to tell him he looked good only made Howard angry. Things had gotten hostile between them very quickly after that. Howard was very protective of his body and his personal space.

"I won't look," Vince promised, a little too loudly, causing Howard to look even more uncomfortable, "but you can lean on me. I can support you..."

Howard's shoulder were shaking and there were tears on his cheeks but he didn't make a sound. Vince kneeled in front of his friend, close but careful not to touch without invitation.

"I'm so sorry, Howard."

Howard tersely shook his head no.

Vince waited with patience he didn't know he possessed until Howard relaxed.

"You're shivering, Little Man," Howard said, his voice hoarse with emotion, "You need to warm up."

"Come with me?" Vince asked, "Let me prop you up for a bit?"

Howard stared at the wall and nodded, "I supposed I can lean on you for a little while..."

Despite every horrible thing that had happened in the past five days, Vince felt a smile threatening to break out on his face. His Northern giant finally wanted his support.


End file.
